Geoffrey

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StorySuccess part2 Geoffrey314 years 4 months ago
StoryThe rats return part2 Geoffrey214 years 4 months ago
StoryROOMS BY THE SEA seashore914 years 4 months ago
StoryBlackberry Wine Silver Spun Sand2514 years 4 months ago
StoryMarooned Part1 Geoffrey314 years 4 months ago
StoryElderberry wine Geoffrey614 years 4 months ago
StoryObservations from a cafe window Geoffrey414 years 4 months ago
StoryThe wrong mark Geoffrey214 years 4 months ago
StoryKonichiwa Geoffrey214 years 4 months ago
StoryScientists can prove bees can't fly Geoffrey314 years 4 months ago
StoryIncident at Worcester Geoffrey214 years 4 months ago
StoryHave to Laugh - Don't You? Silver Spun Sand1614 years 4 months ago
StoryLeaves Geoffrey214 years 5 months ago
StoryThe job Geoffrey414 years 5 months ago
StoryOCTOBER MAGIC skinner_jennifer3814 years 5 months ago
StoryTHE APPLE skinner_jennifer2114 years 5 months ago
StoryMy cats Geoffrey414 years 5 months ago
StoryEXTRA SENSORY PERCEPTION skinner_jennifer2614 years 5 months ago
StoryA West Country Poem skinner_jennifer614 years 5 months ago
StoryWalking for your health Geoffrey214 years 5 months ago
StoryHow to become a famous poet Geoffrey314 years 5 months ago
StoryObtaining a passport Geoffrey214 years 5 months ago
StoryMy 59 minute friend Geoffrey214 years 5 months ago
StoryEnglish as she is spoke Geoffrey314 years 5 months ago
StoryMilk Geoffrey314 years 5 months ago

My stories

May Day

May Day Today is May Day so I’ll be seen With all my friends on the village green Midst crowds around a striped maypole Dancing like villagers did of old

Writing doggerel

Writing doggerel I like to sit and write in rhyme And most of the time I think I’m quite successful But I often find my mind goes blank and then I can’t find the rhyme I want.

The cloud

The cloud I float on high o’er vales and hills Looking for hosts of daffodils But spring has gone until next year There are no daffodils I fear So I head off south and on the way

My cat

My cat My cat is too fat but he doesn’t know that He eats food like a pig or a sow But I think he’s a cat ‘cos the noises he makes Don’t sound like an ‘oink’ but a ‘meow’

One hundred words

The ‘Varsity of the Third Age, want a hundred words upon a page, To form a story or a poem: - work that’s to be done at hoem.

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