Richard L. Provencher

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryGone-Gone Richard L. Prov...213 years 10 months ago
StoryKelvin's Story blighters rock1213 years 10 months ago
StoryThe Secrets of Connla's Well skinner_jennifer2313 years 10 months ago
StoryForgotten Lake Richard L. Prov...413 years 10 months ago
StorySalvation Corner Richard L. Prov...513 years 10 months ago
StoryGOD"S MANSION Indrani Ananda413 years 10 months ago
StoryA Study in South Street MistakenMagic1913 years 10 months ago
StoryOld Bones Richard L. Prov...213 years 10 months ago
Forum topic'Was' or 'Is' - Help please! MissTee613 years 10 months ago
StoryOne Son Richard L. Prov...213 years 10 months ago
Forum topicCopyright Royalties are they Archaic Clive-Pearson2813 years 10 months ago
Forum topicComments in-box scratch713 years 11 months ago
StoryEarly Morning Arrival Richard L. Prov...513 years 11 months ago
StoryPoetry Box Kilb50313 years 11 months ago
Forum topicWhy don't people whistle anymore? jolono1713 years 11 months ago
Forum topiclook out! Bad virus about blighters rock513 years 11 months ago
Forum topicHow to Comment jennifer2213 years 11 months ago
StoryI Write Richard L. Prov...013 years 11 months ago
Forum topicEducation Minister Leads Witch Hunt Clive-Pearson513 years 11 months ago
StoryDeath is my Living! Denzella1713 years 11 months ago
StoryDry Mouth Today Richard L. Prov...1613 years 11 months ago
StoryThe First Hug Edenfalls1513 years 11 months ago
Forum topicDoes anyone think it's sacrilege to re-write Shakespeare? london_calling792813 years 11 months ago
StoryEx chapter 1 lavadis1813 years 11 months ago
Forum topic'Til or Till? MissTee2213 years 11 months ago

Pages

My stories

Enter the Meadow

I long for cows like the ones who enjoyed the chase – us kids watching their tails swish the way their haunches swayed in the wind and cow pies...

An Audience

for a flower under the sun where there is joy and flavour a lone occupant upon the land sitting within a field of forget-me-nots. Splayed across my...

There is No End

to a cold plate of snow its embankments as passions unbridled beneath pillowed-clouds awaiting a second assault of furious intentions and prepare we...

The Last Bus Ride 2

I saw him on his usual walk of day exercise for an older man-- once a firebrand for life‘s joy -- now accepting this act of childhood the hand he...

The Last Bus Stop

I saw him on the walk of day a firebrand of life through an act of love. The hand he held a little child perhaps his grandchild her eyes of hope...

Pages