akoumi

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryCompromise akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
StoryCome girl akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
StoryBreeze akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
StoryBelief akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
StoryAt yonder village akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
StoryAn old man died yesterday akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
StoryAn ode to Aphrodite - from 'The Cypriot' - a novel akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
CollectionThe Cypriot akoumi012 years 3 weeks ago
StoryWeird man akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryMy grandfather akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryThe money akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StorySaint Marina akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryThe poor old pair of breeches akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryMy sweet and slender basil akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryLittle worm akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryThe clever donkey akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryThe Mother - from 'The Cypriot' - a novel akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryI was a bird upon a wing akoumi012 years 2 months ago
StoryFiller akoumi012 years 2 months ago

My collections

My stories

My grandfather

I sometimes think about what my grandfather must have gone through. A man who died before I was even part of a world far, far different to the one he'd experienced. What would it have been like, under that scorching sun, worshipping the enriched red soil that was his lot? A soil which brought forth food to put on the table. No need for money. Only muscles. And an iron will to survive and ensure your children did likewise.

I was a bird upon a wing

I was a bird upon a wing until my feathers you clipped, When you believed those wicked lies and from beside me you slipped. You were upset without a cause, please tell me where I'm to blame. I can't endure the pain of it, I'm being driven insane.

The money

O! It may be you're the mayor's child and even if you're not. O! I'm going to kiss you anyway, though jail may be my lot. Money, money, money, money, money. Shillings and florins, won't you give me.

Saint Marina

O Saint Marina, lady who Lulls into sleep the young, please do Lull into sleep my baby too. Please take my little one with you. Take him afar, then take him wide, And then return him by my side.

The poor old pair of breeches

O! With forty yards of cotton cloth, with forty yards of cotton cloth, They made, they made, they made a pair of breeches. O! The crutch it dangled very long, the crutch it dangled very long, And swept, and swept, and swept the lower reaches.

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