The constant ‘tick ( Read more... )

Creative writing is I suppose, my strong point in Literature, it is where my heart lays. I feel myself pouring onto a page when I write and writing about my past is a way from me to go home, even when I can’t physically go there. As a country girl apart from missing my beautiful family the thing I miss most in the world is the spirit of nature, it ( Read more... )

If time is a healer
Why do I miss you more every day?

There was something entirely ( Read more... )

A cool breeze ruffled ( Read more... )

The chairs all stood

Straight and proud

In rows of twenty

Backward four

She traced her fingers

Along the dusty

Black backs

Of sinister wooden shapes

She moved along the rows

Of twenty and four

Counting steps and seats

The patter of her feet

Her fingers ran

Along the chairs

She gained a splinter

Here and there

SM

( Read more... )

Sorry I didn't get a change to say, happy birthday.
I wished it to you in my sleep.
I waved to you across the street.
I saw you glance, then turn away.
I wanted to give you a kiss.
instead I wrote you this.

I suppose I have been forgotten
Those things happen so often
Promised me you wouldn’t
But then again why would you
I am not mad, but selfishly hurt
I know where you stand
I am not near you in that picture
I miss you every day
Every single day

Give me your soul

Your heart and mind

Give it to me so I can

Break it for you

I will use it

To get my fill

Like you are a pill

Temping for relief

I forgot the simple fact

That you are human

I forgot that maybe I meant something

To you

SM