Tag: Writing
-
Village Life
Greater Somerton Under Overwood. A tiny village in one of the leafy green areas of England, with a name that seems strangely longer than the village itself. The main road that runs through the centre of the village is split in two; Upper Greater Somerton Under Overwood Main Street and Southern Greater Somerton Under Overwood…
-
The Looking Glass
It’s the odd things that pique my interest. I noticed how the stars, no the whole Universe, comes alive when I look upon it through my glass disc. The stars themselves, when viewed, are just the same size, only more vibrant and more spread apart. Galaxies and colours form in an abstract rendering of natural…
-
One Minute
Although the sun was bright and warm, the wind had a bit of a chill to it as it gusted, bellowed and howled through the space at the side of the complex and into the garden. Yesterday’s newspaper tore itself page by page from the round white metal table where it had been left momentarily,…
-
At the Point where the Future Begins
Along the jagged path Life’s tendrils doth appear Dark shadows hidden By the brightness that is near Just up ahead lies the future Although, not all that clear, Holding dreams and aspirations, And ideas we hold dear.Stand on the ledge Look forward ‘twixt dark and light Imagine reaching, grasping, grabbing That which we hold tight…
-
Candlelight
The bright light from the flame attracts me. It cuts through the dark shadows with a blinding ease. As the wind outside echoes its eerie whisper, the flame quietly sings along. There are shapes in the shadows, dancing to the flame’s hypnotic call. The shadow-dwellers seem to giggle as they stretch and reach out, elongated…
