The poison bottle
held memories of her past
trying not to smile
Filed under As you read it, Haiku, Self compositions
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A Chronological History of Britain
~wandering through life in my time machine...you never know where it will stop next~
Travel via Stories
a resource for moving poetry
Odds and ends of British history in no particular order
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THE DRIVELLINGS OF TWATTERSLEY FROMAGE
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A creative miscellany of mythic fantasies
Shortness of Breadth
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Short Fiction by Nicola Humphreys
Irreverence's Glittering New Low!
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A view of the world through eyes of faith
Writing about living in two places (and times)
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Idiotophobe
A dose of fetish. Good friends. An incomparable muse.
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An onion has many layers. So have I!
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Good lives on our one planet
A collective of poems and photos. All photos taken by me unless stated otherwise.
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When the pen takes control. 
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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