Rhiannonw

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryLumenism over the Hudson jeand610 years 4 months ago
StoryLast Cry of the Fox skinner_jennifer1410 years 4 months ago
StoryA Clockwork Forager Silver Spun Sand810 years 4 months ago
StoryThe Softening of Storms Rhiannonw1310 years 4 months ago
StoryHuldufolk (Poetry Monthly) Philip Sidney2510 years 4 months ago
StoryTempest skinner_jennifer810 years 4 months ago
StoryDear Philip, May 18, 2011 jeand510 years 4 months ago
StoryThalidomide jeand610 years 4 months ago
StoryThe Flounderer Bee1510 years 4 months ago
StoryCANDLES moonphish410 years 4 months ago
StoryBeesands Jane Hyphen610 years 4 months ago
Story Paean maisie1110 years 4 months ago
StoryFacebook!! Angela McCrimmon410 years 4 months ago
StoryNobody Passed like Aunt Sis Did Silver Spun Sand410 years 4 months ago
StoryThus Spake Jeeves... Silver Spun Sand1610 years 4 months ago
StoryThe Way of Rain... Silver Spun Sand1410 years 4 months ago
StoryAround the Round Rhiannonw610 years 4 months ago
StoryReasons to Praise Rhiannonw410 years 4 months ago
StoryDear Philip, April 2011 jeand510 years 5 months ago
StoryWe Ewan610 years 5 months ago
StoryMeanings... Bae maisie210 years 5 months ago
StoryMonochrome Morning Ed Crane1210 years 5 months ago
StoryA4 Ed Crane910 years 5 months ago
StoryBird (Poetry Monthly) Silver Spun Sand810 years 5 months ago
StoryDear Philip, January 2011 jeand710 years 5 months ago

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My stories

The Puzzles’ Enigma

Walking along Hergest ridge, comfortable, spongy turf, burbling melodies pour down from skylarks unseen, high in the blue; enjoying the freedom of a...

Three Crosses at Calvary

[Easter Sunday — Continuing the hymn-for-Sundays series] One man on a cross insulted his neighbour by mocking this sufferer who could be his Saviour...
Cherry

Golden Blast at the Roadside

Sudden spillage on the verges, orchard, lawns – molten gold explosions, splashes, brilliant swarms: dandelions’ moment, reflecting sudden sunshine...

Is God alive?

You can’t believe there’s a God who is good? complain he doesn’t do (yet) what you think he should? assume that Jesus just can’t have been what is...
Cherry

Going Down Below

[This short poem was written, at request, for the Thanksgiving Service for a dear very elderly man who had had a working life as a skilful and dedicated mining engineer, though when asked of his occupation he would simply say ‘A miner’. I remembered Ewan’s writing on a colliery disaster in the 19th century, and thought it good to remember those who worked hard to improve and keep safety in industry.] Deep shafts, black gold, dark collier shifts …

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