 |
She never really liked dolls,or play learning to cook;Instead, like some distant childof the gods, she dreamed long hoursaway in the garden, preferrin..
|
|
We are all the product of fusion,intentional or otherwise,the choice of when such anevent occurs, always quiteHobson in its option.Thus, when retro de..
|
|
She stands, waiting,wondering, will hetake me to lunch first?He smiles and takesher hand. Palms pressand she smiles back.See, see how he loves me.Ther..
|
|
I saw them in the window,they were beckoning to me,high heeled, black and seductive,And I thought - 'Oh Wow! Sexy!'Then I paused just for a moment,loo..
|
|
Under standards set by the Worldcouncil for conformity, you are beautiful.An unblemished apple in an orchard mostlyhung heavy on the bough with the bl..
|
|
On a early morning walk through the beautiful Gwydir forest in Wales.
|
|
I wrote this after watching a heart rending TV programme about the children of Afghanistan, but it also relates to any war torn country where the inno..
|
|
There were no chinks in thearmour of his self delusion."Cut me and I do not bleed,"he would very often boast."Ignore me and I will revel inthe cloak o..
|
|
She wrote the song that charmed his eyes,that filled the blue and cloudless skyand often to the listening earthwhispered the story of his birth;and he..
|
|
You would not think such simple thingswould please so perfectly the child,that lit with inner flame desiresto know all there is need to know.Yet like ..
|
|
|
first
prev
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This