The poison bottle
held memories of her past
trying not to smile
Filed under As you read it, Haiku, Self compositions
the magic begins the moment you start being yourself
Travel, History, Fiction and Dogs, Romania & South Africa ~ For what is wind, but the amassed power of words long ago uttered? (Patricia Furstenberg)
a resource for moving poetry
English History from 1066
Musings from an insignificant writer
Celebrating what makes Brittany unique
Author of Young Adult Fantasy
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A little bit of everything
Author Aspiring
Poetry from my pen
Ultimately, a real understanding of history means that we face *nothing* new under the sun.” – James Mattis
THE DRIVELLINGS OF TWATTERSLEY FROMAGE
my humanity in written form
Published in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Near to the Knuckle, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, and Shooter magazine.
Just another blog of random thoughts.
Aspiring to be the best at writing. Poetry lover, haiku and free verse to be precise, I hope to one day master
The writerly musings of Connie J. Jasperson, author, blogger and medieval renaissance woman.
Writer & Translator
to be worth sharing
Writing Advice From A YA Author Powered By Chocolate And Green Tea
Doing the best I can to keep it on the bright side
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Life is make believe, fantasy given form
What the world needs now in addition to love is wisdom. We are the masters of our own disasters.
The yearly literary festival in the heart of Buckinghamshire
Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
A creative miscellany of mythic fantasies
Award-winning, dream-protecting author
Short stories online
Climbing, Outdoors, Life!
Shortness of Breadth
posting poetic prose
This is a space for me to write, share my words and play with poetry. You are very welcome here.
Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry
Home-brewed Prose & Poetry
SteveTanham - writing, mysticism, photography, poetry, friends
Looking at past and present, from odd & unusual angles
Short Fiction by Nicola Humphreys (nicolawitters)
Her past leaves much to be imagined.
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A dark Haiku. Is she the poisoner or the poisoney
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Enigmatic, like the smile
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I really like the tone. This is one of those poems that stays with you.
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It reminded me of something. I realized it as soon as I left your page. I came back to tell you I know what it is: an old 1940’s film noir.
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I can’t say it was an influence I’m afraid but the oldies are generally goldies
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