Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie316 years 4 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf916 years 5 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote116 years 7 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A316 years 8 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote616 years 11 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote216 years 11 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1816 years 12 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3017 years 2 weeks ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer217 years 6 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer117 years 9 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote317 years 10 months ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic218 years 4 weeks ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote218 years 1 month ago

My stories

Her treasury is quite empty

Summer she’s had her time, allot: A drubbing in the rain A tinkling in the chimney-pot Drumming; on the windowpane. Summer she’s all but faded and gone

Limerick

A Chinese crime fighting copper Took out a dirty big chopper And said; who’s this noodle I’ll boil up his pink poodle For telling all us such a whopper!

Often I’d search out the blue

Often I’d search out the blue of forget-me-not Back of some tall-hoary; May hawthorn, shabby hedge Or right down to the waters marigold ledge

Thieves and menschen

She’s a precocious milky sky A moon white opals radius Her velvet hand of winter calls Beckoning to all, who’ll pause? In their stalactite breaths; outdoors

Carte blanche…

Find me a rose bed Where lovers have wed Where angels have fed Drunk on the nectar Of love and passion Drunk on the spectre Of petticoats ashen A butterfly collector I would projector

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