EpheLuwe

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryThe Moment EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
CollectionIf ever I glimpsed at an oracle, or crapped on a golden chain EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StoryMaiden Dreamt EpheLuwe16 years 1 month ago
StoryParting dregs EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryImages of eternity EpheLuwe16 years 1 month ago
StoryPilgrim EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StoryThe Tortured Saint EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryElysium Fields EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryThe First Libertine EpheLuwe46 years 1 month ago
StoryThe Sparrow EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryDissected relations (revised). EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StorySoul EpheLuwe86 years 1 month ago
StoryThose: Humanitarians EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StoryI see there's Sunshine EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryHold on EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StoryYou can't see me EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryA Stanza to my Muse - F., though she be departed EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StoryA Sonnet Written on the Occasion of Texts Exhanged Past Midnight EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StoryWyboston EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago
StoryGliding hands EpheLuwe16 years 1 month ago
StoryDum Spiro Spero - attempt two EpheLuwe36 years 1 month ago
StoryA return to the small voice EpheLuwe16 years 1 month ago
StoryDum spiro spero: While I breathe, I hope. EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryLady Luna EpheLuwe26 years 1 month ago
StoryI am an Island EpheLuwe06 years 1 month ago

My stories

The Moment

The anxious moment of hesitancy and trust of self doubted together In that moment I wonder what will become of us of you of me when we delve through...

A Stanza to my Muse - F., though she be departed

I did on one day At one hour and second in time On one plane and one altitude Decide you were mine: - (& with that decided, Vigild the 'wick's...

A Sonnet Written on the Occasion of Texts Exhanged Past Midnight

I see you, I am home Oh Love, miles between us, Yet still home! When in my hand, Upon this tiny screen, I hold your heart. Spoken - a million nothing...

Wyboston

She said she awoke, and Before she'd even spoken Dipped a pen. My Fantastical Welsh Scribe And I have images of her Within the longing vestiges of my...

Gliding hands

a rose is no rose

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