/explore
|
You are here 
|
lunas-online.com | ||
| | | | |
crispinakemp.com
The spell she cast Was weak It wouldn't last But for this one day's length It would give her strength For a task she'd rather not To dig a grave For a love she'd never forgot Thereafter The weeds could grow again To obscure the place Where they had lain |
|
| | | | | ||
| | | | |
crispinakemp.com
Spirit of the woodland, me Though I don't reside in any tree Rather would I be Like a butterfly or bee That flits from flower to flower Throughout every woodland bower And as I fly I never do tarry But with me always carry To cut away the dead and withering, a pruning knife And... |
|
| | | | | ||
| | | | |
theelephantstrunk.org
Written for Crimson's Creative Challenge © Crispina Kemp Along the Waveney's muddy hem,where reeds lean in to whisper,a ghost in white stands perfectly still ....then steps, one dark foot into the shimmer. No hurry here. The morning belongsto the heron's pale cousin,reading the water like a slow, silver page,while the world holds its breath by... |
|
| | | | | ||
| | | | |
ceayr.com
© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here. Click here to hear the author read his words: The Low RoadThe highway is straight and empty, and very boring.The sides drop down to... |
|
| | | |||
