Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryTurkey dinner Mark Heathcote32 years 5 months ago
StoryElf’s came to shake the bluebells Mark Heathcote22 years 5 months ago
StoryPupate Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryAvalanche Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryHe’s just a bug on my lapel Mark Heathcote42 years 5 months ago
StoryNo passion begs Mark Heathcote22 years 5 months ago
StoryWomen are quarrelsome Mark Heathcote12 years 5 months ago
StoryWe’d make corn rings till the day I die Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryBlueberries and ice-cream Mark Heathcote22 years 5 months ago
StoryAn ode to spring Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryAshtray blues Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryOn this your birthday Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryA hoedown love Mark Heathcote32 years 5 months ago
StoryMelancholly wings Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryWhy, dandelion it isn’t easy… Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryUntil I follow you Mark Heathcote32 years 5 months ago
StoryWings and caterpillars Mark Heathcote42 years 5 months ago
StoryTradition systematizes all strength in size Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryMine is the voice off all things Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryAren’t words apt? Mark Heathcote32 years 5 months ago
StoryI’m only half way to the moon Mark Heathcote22 years 5 months ago
StoryEastern sunlight Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryThese are my mountains… Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryMy heart is a hanging garden of Babylon Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago
StoryLove on resin setting fire Mark Heathcote02 years 5 months ago

My stories

We looked for something past remembrance

We looked for something past remembrance cutting through some fields of emerald green like a ploughed furrow waiting for a seed to grow we looked for...

I sat beneath a Bobhi tree

I sat beneath a huge tree its shape and size shaded me as if I were its seedling in search of nourishment as if I were the sapling in search of light...

Have we lingered in their attic floors?

On hearts of angels, have we trod? Heavier-sorrows than the weight-of-sod have we lingered in their attic floors? To glimpse, hear, behind their...

Orange is my colour of love

There is a canal orange in colour Where clay leaves its silt remains… That’s how I feel about you too. As though you’ve floated on through… And...

If I

If I Try to kiss you Would you pout or refrain Make this heart chug a locomotive- Steam train Steam train Hot to sizzling, Would your whole breast...

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