Mark Heathcote

Primary tabs

TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryTen For The Ten Commandments (IP) well-wisher914 years 3 weeks ago
StoryNicknames for Aislinn Mark Heathcote414 years 6 months ago
StoryLove is the drug shoe814 years 6 months ago
Storyplease (don't ) marry me! shoe1514 years 6 months ago
Storythe affair shoe1314 years 6 months ago
StoryNo two people Mark Heathcote214 years 10 months ago
StorySpring Fever jennifer214 years 10 months ago
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie314 years 11 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf914 years 11 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote115 years 1 month ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A315 years 3 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote615 years 5 months ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote215 years 5 months ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1815 years 6 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3015 years 7 months ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer216 years 4 weeks ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer116 years 4 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote316 years 4 months ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic216 years 7 months ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote216 years 8 months ago

My stories

Her treasury is quite empty

Summer she’s had her time, allot: A drubbing in the rain A tinkling in the chimney-pot Drumming; on the windowpane. Summer she’s all but faded and gone

Limerick

A Chinese crime fighting copper Took out a dirty big chopper And said; who’s this noodle I’ll boil up his pink poodle For telling all us such a whopper!

Often I’d search out the blue

Often I’d search out the blue of forget-me-not Back of some tall-hoary; May hawthorn, shabby hedge Or right down to the waters marigold ledge

Thieves and menschen

She’s a precocious milky sky A moon white opals radius Her velvet hand of winter calls Beckoning to all, who’ll pause? In their stalactite breaths; outdoors

Carte blanche…

Find me a rose bed Where lovers have wed Where angels have fed Drunk on the nectar Of love and passion Drunk on the spectre Of petticoats ashen A butterfly collector I would projector

Pages