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Post by aj on Apr 28, 2004 19:34:02 GMT -5
This board is for posting essays, short stories, plays, or bits from larger works in progress that you need a little input on. You also may enter journal-type entries of you like.
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Post by jamiesfantasy on Jun 8, 2005 20:43:11 GMT -5
She sits at her mirror brushing her hair, dressed in black
velvet with just the right flair.
She puts on her makeup with ever an ease, ready for the night, ready to please.
She picks up her flower and closes the door, its sunset this evening, who could ask for more?
She walks through the tall grass with a graceful pose, she bends down to lay her perfect black rose.
She wipes the tears that fill up her eyes and visions of the past marquis the skies.
He was her love, her dream come true, but God said "now I have to take him from you".
She wanders back home and enters the door, pictures of him scattered all over the floor.
Upstairs she ascends, ready to sleep, with visions of him, she begins to weep.
She lays on the bed, not a sound to be heard, she whispers, "I love you" but he never utters a word.
Copyright 2003. Jamie Mallinson
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Post by jamiesfantasy on Jun 8, 2005 20:45:00 GMT -5
Cottage Of Love
There was a time, not long ago, in an old rural town, I often would go.
They called it Cottage of love, now I can plainly see, but years ago,
it wasn't able to be.
The story, they say, went something like this, a man and a woman
just married in bliss. Then all of a sudden, the woman was gone. No one
ever saw her,the town was stunned.
In asking the husband the whereabouts of his wife
he would shrug it off and talk of only his life.
As the years went on, I became a nurse, working in a mental
home, was the start of this curse.
There was this lady, with scars on her face, hump-back profile
made such a disgrace. I thought she looked familiar so I
decided to ask, have I seen you before in my childhood past?
The lady looked up from her stare and began, what was to be
the story of her life at last. She said her mind was playing a game,
her husband at the time could neither take the blame nor
the shame. She said it was like a pair white of doves,
flying over the land but not actually being in love.
Copyright.2004. J.Mallinson
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Post by Jaysie on Jun 16, 2005 16:03:45 GMT -5
nice prose. welcome to poets anon!!!!
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Post by Elisha on Feb 12, 2008 23:30:12 GMT -5
nobodys posted anything for almost three years? this is unbelievable.
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gypsy1
brand, spanking new
Posts: 1 
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Post by gypsy1 on Mar 2, 2014 1:11:21 GMT -5
This board is for posting essays, short stories, plays, or bits from larger works in progress that you need a little input on. You also may enter journal-type entries of you like. |
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