Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryTen For The Ten Commandments (IP) well-wisher913 years 5 months ago
StoryNicknames for Aislinn Mark Heathcote413 years 10 months ago
StoryLove is the drug shoe813 years 11 months ago
Storyplease (don't ) marry me! shoe1513 years 11 months ago
Storythe affair shoe1313 years 11 months ago
StoryNo two people Mark Heathcote214 years 3 months ago
StorySpring Fever jennifer214 years 3 months ago
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie314 years 3 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf914 years 4 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote114 years 6 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A314 years 7 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote614 years 10 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote214 years 10 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1814 years 11 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3014 years 12 months ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer215 years 5 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer115 years 8 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote315 years 9 months ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic216 years 1 week ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote216 years 3 weeks ago

My stories


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.