MistakenMagic

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryWHO AM I? Zemikael Habte ...215 years 4 months ago
StoryMonday's Child (I.P.) Silver Spun Sand815 years 4 months ago
StoryThe Young Poet threeleafshamrock415 years 4 months ago
StoryLittle things shoe1515 years 4 months ago
StoryLest This Day kheldar1115 years 4 months ago
StoryOnce Upon a Time Silver Spun Sand2215 years 4 months ago
Story#Ruaumoko #haiku littleditty715 years 4 months ago
StoryFailure to Launch barryj1915 years 4 months ago
StoryDiary of a twenty-first century son maggyvaneijk1415 years 4 months ago
StoryPaper Proof jennifer1115 years 4 months ago
StoryHer Rucksack Silver Spun Sand3215 years 4 months ago
StoryIf you meet me, have some sympathy 6 rjnewlyn1015 years 4 months ago
StoryReading at the Lowe Library MistakenMagic3215 years 4 months ago
StoryPostscript MistakenMagic3215 years 4 months ago
StoryWe're All Mad Here MistakenMagic2515 years 4 months ago
StoryMiles to Go Before I Sleep MistakenMagic2715 years 4 months ago
StorySunlit poems Beeme2015 years 4 months ago
StoryFailing Belief Beeme1215 years 4 months ago
StoryPlato's Parable of the Chainsaw barryj1815 years 4 months ago
StoryJust Another Poem (I.P.) Silver Spun Sand3215 years 4 months ago
StoryAnother Day... Silver Spun Sand2815 years 4 months ago
StoryTaxi Ride jennifer2515 years 4 months ago
StoryA SPIRITUAL MOMENT AT THE BEACH skinner_jennifer2415 years 4 months ago
StoryIf you meet me, have some sympathy 5 rjnewlyn1215 years 4 months ago
StoryEddie Babe Silver Spun Sand1415 years 4 months ago

My stories

The Condemned

And you were the north - everything pointed to you. All my heart had to do was follow the signs.

Anything to Forget

I wander into my father's tool shed. My fingers twitch for a hammer To smash at my temples so that the memories May drip from my ear that witnessed His whispers, his promises.
Cherry

This Prison

I wake to a blue and yellow pastel dawn Chalked with white clouds And I know I dreamt about you again.
Cherry

Rain in July

She taps her red pumps On the stool as she gazes Out of the window of the Samaritans Charity shop. She stands out Like a snow white moth Against a grimy window pane.

Bittersweet

In the attic She lies beneath A blue square of sky Clinging to the bed clothes She can still smell The cake he baked for her

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