Silver Spun Sand
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My stories
The Myth of Narcissus
Spring has arrived and yet, but one tiny bud would dare to open;
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The Nothingness of Stars
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces between stars – stars where no human race is. I have it in me so much nearer home to scare myself with my own desert places. Robert Frost
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- 3779 reads
Spring Springs
The time of year when the earth is created again, one piece at a time,
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The Beat Goes On
Durham Buildings reeks of spliff, of fish and chips and oysters,
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Silence is Golden
Looks at her – 'eyes could charm the birds right out the trees', and perhaps they did.
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- 780 reads