Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie316 years 2 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf916 years 3 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote116 years 5 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A316 years 6 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote616 years 9 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote216 years 9 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1816 years 9 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3016 years 10 months ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer217 years 4 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer117 years 7 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote317 years 8 months ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic217 years 11 months ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote217 years 11 months ago

My stories

Sing as I never did before

If on some morning, I should die A snuffed out candle; from the sky Nought shall know my graveyard shift Nor I processed any gift

The joys in her heart shall never be eclipse!

Before he could blink or close fast his eyes Her joyous moment cast the final dyes Prior his christening the naming harangue Her chorus amended the death-knell rang.

To the intolerant elected us must learn to love:

To the intolerant elected us must learn to love: for it is they, who have frozen on the path to light. For it is they, who have frozen short sighted and fastened their tempers of understanding.

Search endlessly for this truth divine

Ghostly are blossoms conjured? Swirling paths remembered... On these petals shall we tread? Rise as though they never shed. On their pink ribbons, shall we glide?

Autumn breeze...

The autumn breeze, wanders purposeful. Crispy waves both warmish and cold: Crisscross the lawn, sometimes wrathful, Other times gently consoled. Like a lamb not quite ready to walk

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