Donkey Wings
Out on the grey-gold sand, On the very edge of land, Down where the waves crash, There was a grey old donkey called Dash, Way back when in his youth, When he wasn't so long in tooth, He could run the...
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Out on the grey-gold sand, On the very edge of land, Down where the waves crash, There was a grey old donkey called Dash, Way back when in his youth, When he wasn't so long in tooth, He could run the...
In Farmer Robert's field You must not stray, Because its the realm Where his wife doth play. A strange young woman, From another town. Reedy and graceful With hair soft as down.
I'm under your spell. Your enchanted eyes see deep into my soul. Your lips speak of memories which soon become my own. Your touch is electric, sending shivers down my spine.
Where am I. And who are you. What is this world. Why can't we see. Don't angels hover atop mountains, and mermaids swim the seas. Do the dead lie sleeping in graves while the living lie awake in beds.
Taboo “I never wanted to come here in the first place!” roared Iris, as she burst into her substitute bedroom in a wild rage, slamming the door behind her with such vigour; the fragile cottage...
The queen of the spring has delicate fingers that can do anything; whether make the flowers sprout or make the birds sing.
I ran into Jesus at the corner bistro the other day; either it was him, or "Hair" was doing a revival.
I have this little theory, There's a Thing inside my purse, And when this Thing gets hungry, To my headphones it goes first.
// all children grow up, except one // I reached for his hand through the open window. For a brief moment, he hesitated, staying suspended in the night air before giving in to my pleading eyes.
The hut was filled with smoke, the fire was burning blue, the incense was mind-altering, and so where the mushrooms he chewed.
I'm grasping his hand, standing on the edge of my windowsill, petrified and frozen with wonder. My nightgown dances in the night breeze and my once lady-like curls are now unruly and windswept.
The buttercup and silky white rays of light glisten through the top of the magnificent curtains into our bedroom. The light had gently stirred me from the best sleep that I could ever recall having.
Sculptor waited for his muse He'd been there half the day "I wish that she would hurry up I've got bills to pay" It was to be his masterpiece For everyone to admire And he planned to sell it on So...
I'm soaring through the sky. The wind is running through my feathers as I cut through the air, matching the pace of my ground companion. I am not too high up, just above the tree tops.
Chapter 3: Full of Surprises (Part 2) Lily I woke that morning to the sound of laughter.
Chapter 3: Full of Surprises (Part 1) Lily Like a magnolia painted wall, I disappeared into the background and sat in class as an observer, not a participant. I brooded over the loss of my friend.
Looking down the platform whilst getting on my train, I could see a group of children all wearing what looked like black capes, also boarding.
"Eddy" In a marvellous little town Lived a daring fellow, Eddy. He could keep in his hand, for fun, A keg full of fine brandy. He, with his fingers, ploughed land much better than all ploughs.
Sophia, angel of the night, stepped out onto her golden balcony. Finn waited below. " you are so like Romeo," she joked. He chuckled in reply. " and you are beautiful like Juliet," he said.
As I walked alone I saw A shop that wasn't there before Here, just opposite the park A quaint old place, strange and dark I gingerly opened the door Couldn't even see the floor For piled on high all...
There was a grey parrot that grew red feathers one morning because he dreamed of strawberries. Or at least that’s what he thought.
**sorry it's been a while-I've been revising for exams. I think this cheaper may be a little slow paced-please let me know what you think!** Chapter 2 It all started when I ran away.
And then it occurred to me. Or at least I think it did. Not much had ever occurred to me; maybe it was my tree, or that I was way up above the canopy by now. Anyway I had had an idea.
"Are you lonely?" The wind whispers. "Does it seem like I am?" I asked. "Well, if you can hear my whispers you must be. Because that means you are alone.