It would mean everything ( Read more... )

helpless on the ever shifting shore ( Read more... )

far off lands off golden grains and grasses ( Read more... )

Something from a few years ago that isn't too bad so I'll add it to my archive. Can you guess what inspired this one? ;-)Fires lit the building shells ( Read more... )

How long the night lasts in our remaining days

They are numbered so large to be far away

The sparks will fade in the end of time

In our brief moment, I can call them mine.

I wrote this back in December 2004, just reposting it here so I can have my work all together.

Summary: Molly knows the truth about loveDishes are forgotten in the sink of cold soapy water, enchanted wash cloths lie still on the sideboard. A cup of cold tea is in her hands, cold fingers wrapped round it and numb. She wonders sometimes if Grimmauld ( Read more... )

I have loved well, but not so deep it seems ( Read more... )

PassingMoments pass with voice and body in limbo ( Read more... )

It's a quiet thing, watching the waves lap up the beach and leave idle patterns with the seaweed. It is a distant place, unconnected and unaware of human turmoil. It is a good feeling, even in the sadness. The world goes on, the sea is ever moving and working and whatever pain is lodged inside, it is irrelevant to this. It will not be the end of ( Read more... )

So I want to start writing properly again, getting ideas and moments down on paper and pixels. To start me off I thought I would post something I wrote almost 4 years ago now ( Read more... )