Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie316 years 1 month ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf916 years 1 month ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote116 years 3 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A316 years 5 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote616 years 7 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote216 years 7 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1816 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3016 years 9 months ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer217 years 2 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer117 years 6 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote317 years 6 months ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic217 years 9 months ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote217 years 10 months ago

My stories

Everest

Everest—child; that’s your mountain, now go and climb its peak It isn’t easy to get to the summit, son, There’s many still there buried at its humble feet.

The wood cutter

In the blackest dungeon forest, in the deepest dark There in; lies a post-hold position, in yours and gods heart Where in; he builds a lowly wood cutter habitation,

You are our cradle in the water

You are my eyes You are my heaven You are a sunny distant shore You are a cradle in the water Of a rainbow I’ve longed, longed for... You are the white-salt spray

By the river of contemplation

We sat by the river of contemplation And girl you did whisper unto me Like a summer breeze All the secret's of your world to me And I was so mesmerized I unlearned how to breathe...

Lamenting ladies

A lady laments a voyage of pleasure And cornucopia, English, weather. A lady laments a man’s time for leisure But never the daffodil fields of treasure.

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