The day was uncommonly warm. Slowly, silently, the vines suckled at the sunlight, soaking in the humidity. Inch by inch, green claws grasped new terrain. A day. One week. Two. The garden was theirs. Nothing else left unconquered. Still, leafed claws stretched. Soon – the gate. Then. The outside world.
This piece won a runner-up position in the Two Voices Competition, organised by Writing the City. It’s a great place to meet fellow writers, share your work and get critique. Also – they hold monthly themed competitions – so you get an incentive to start writing, and a launchpad for your story ideas. A useful… Read More Lift Lobby
Time has passed since I wrote this piece. I don’t usually write poetry, and when I do, it’s often not to play with words and language like the best poets do. I suppose they are cathartic pieces, a way of untwisting convoluted emotions at play. I’ve always been annoyed at how literal and emotionally driven… Read More Unravelling
I told father ………. “A poem would suffice” He retorted ………. “I’m no poet” I told father ………. “Just a few lines” Father cobbled together ………. lines, lyrics. A word here, a phrase there ………. from obscure songs. His favourites. It was an un-poem, ………. clumsy, heartfelt, with such poetic intent, just like love –… Read More Anniversary