I have 60 stories published in
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My stories have been read 52991 times
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They met Under the non-existent beady eye Of a headless stork In ornamental gardens At midnight Perfect hedges shrouded them And he tried not to think About the wedding ring That lay quietly
There is no romance in you Just cold hard truths No risks or dares or promises Just box-ticking stories let loose There is no taking a leap with you No gushing message, no midnight wink
When Mr Chin Leaned in And frowned Flashed his White light Told me To look right Then left Then into the corner Read those letters Behind me He said I looked Past his head
You took my lid off Peered in Poured in A little bit of you. All day, clouds and sky and birds Passed over my lidless head Like a boiled egg With its top discarded, in the bin.
As plain as his name above the door And the burst capillaries in his cheeks Waldren was the landlord And he still made a profit most weeks. He polished the bar each morning