Harper stood in frontof the bathroom mirrorand smoothed her tan skirtbelow her knees. She adjusted her navy blazer.She painted her lips redand fluffed her long, dark hairthat spiraled to the small of her back. Harper grinned, winked at herselfand turned off the light.Harper knew better thanto put herself down,so she accepted what she saw. She moved over the cream … [Read more...] about Harper’s New Beginning, By: Andrew Cyr
Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 – II. – The Pine Of Monte Mario At Rome, By: William Wordsworth
I saw far off the dark top of a PineLook like a cloud, a slender stem the tieThat bound it to its native earth, poised high'Mid evening hues, along the horizon line,Striving in peace each other to outshine.But when I learned the Tree was living there,Saved from the sordid axe by Beaumont's care,Oh, what a gush of tenderness was mine!The rescued Pine-Tree, with its sky so … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 – II. – The Pine Of Monte Mario At Rome, By: William Wordsworth
End Of The Season, By: Mary Bone
It was the end of the season.Cooler temps were on the way.It had been a long, hot summer.Grasshoppers took over the garden-without rhyme or reason. … [Read more...] about End Of The Season, By: Mary Bone
Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 – I. – Musings Near Aquapendente – April 1837, By: William Wordsworth
Ye Apennines! with all your fertile valesDeeply embosomed, and your winding shoresOf either sea an Islander by birth,A Mountaineer by habit, would resoundYour praise, in meet accordance with your claimsBestowed by Nature, or from man's great deedsInherited: presumptuous thought! it fledLike vapour, like a towering cloud, dissolved.Not, therefore, shall my mind give way to … [Read more...] about Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 – I. – Musings Near Aquapendente – April 1837, By: William Wordsworth
The Devils Man, By: Jono Horton
I can sense the disdain you have for the purest of manWishing upon him the same fate as a mayfly on its only dayYour life is consumed by feeding on the fear of humankindYour outer vessel once moulded by the purest of handsNow resembles a creature awakened in our darkest dreamsA life force that grows stronger with each failure of mortal menWho once had a purpose and were … [Read more...] about The Devils Man, By: Jono Horton