Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie316 years 4 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf916 years 4 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote116 years 6 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A316 years 8 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote616 years 10 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote216 years 10 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1816 years 11 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3017 years 5 days ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer217 years 5 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer117 years 9 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote317 years 9 months ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic218 years 2 weeks ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote218 years 1 month ago

My stories

The lord of Catchers-Can

In the isles of a gutter In the dim-lit graveyard of a church A man must walk forever With a beggars bowl in hand And succumb to all the weather A man can understand.

Till the dawn-light ember lilts

The eyes of dawn will make my bed In the river of some dream, Where half forgotten limbs will rise Like vapours on the breeze; But who will walk or lean on me Lean against this idle frame?

On the wings of youth

Mayfly if ever an angel be It was you and me Pirouetting in the air so free Above a cobweb lea If ever a child had azure blue wings As blue as a periwinkle sky

My boyhood lover

Song!

The greyer the storm light folds

A soft temperance smile brakes From the bars of the raging sea; Where wave on salt corrosive wave Once purged loves sweetest melody. But age and faith are truer friends

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