Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryTurkey dinner Mark Heathcote32 years 10 months ago
StoryElf’s came to shake the bluebells Mark Heathcote22 years 10 months ago
StoryPupate Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryAvalanche Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryHe’s just a bug on my lapel Mark Heathcote42 years 10 months ago
StoryNo passion begs Mark Heathcote22 years 10 months ago
StoryWomen are quarrelsome Mark Heathcote12 years 10 months ago
StoryWe’d make corn rings till the day I die Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryBlueberries and ice-cream Mark Heathcote22 years 10 months ago
StoryAn ode to spring Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryAshtray blues Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryOn this your birthday Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryA hoedown love Mark Heathcote32 years 10 months ago
StoryMelancholly wings Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryWhy, dandelion it isn’t easy… Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryUntil I follow you Mark Heathcote32 years 10 months ago
StoryWings and caterpillars Mark Heathcote42 years 10 months ago
StoryTradition systematizes all strength in size Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryMine is the voice off all things Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryAren’t words apt? Mark Heathcote32 years 10 months ago
StoryI’m only half way to the moon Mark Heathcote22 years 10 months ago
StoryEastern sunlight Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryThese are my mountains… Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryMy heart is a hanging garden of Babylon Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago
StoryLove on resin setting fire Mark Heathcote02 years 10 months ago

My stories

We looked for something past remembrance

We looked for something past remembrance cutting through some fields of emerald green like a ploughed furrow waiting for a seed to grow we looked for...

I sat beneath a Bobhi tree

I sat beneath a huge tree its shape and size shaded me as if I were its seedling in search of nourishment as if I were the sapling in search of light...

Have we lingered in their attic floors?

On hearts of angels, have we trod? Heavier-sorrows than the weight-of-sod have we lingered in their attic floors? To glimpse, hear, behind their...

Orange is my colour of love

There is a canal orange in colour Where clay leaves its silt remains… That’s how I feel about you too. As though you’ve floated on through… And...

If I

If I Try to kiss you Would you pout or refrain Make this heart chug a locomotive- Steam train Steam train Hot to sizzling, Would your whole breast...

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