Rhiannonw

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryLost in the Star (Poetry Monthly) Rhiannonw1610 years 7 months ago
StoryInjections Vladislas32110 years 7 months ago
StoryEIGHTEEN INCHES moonphish410 years 7 months ago
StoryHow Are You? luigi_pagano610 years 7 months ago
StoryAmazed! Rhiannonw210 years 7 months ago
StoryEugene and the Christmas Tree loquaciousicity510 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Guy Pushing Big Issue Silver Spun Sand810 years 7 months ago
StoryA Tiny Light Silver Spun Sand410 years 7 months ago
StoryWhite Noise Silver Spun Sand410 years 7 months ago
StoryMy Man jeand1310 years 7 months ago
StoryA New Regime (I.P.) luigi_pagano610 years 8 months ago
StoryDear Philip, July 31, 2010 jeand610 years 8 months ago
StoryImpossible camilla210 years 8 months ago
StoryGhosts in the Machine (Poetry Monthly) Philip Sidney2910 years 8 months ago
StorySanta's Little Helpers...(I.P.) Silver Spun Sand610 years 8 months ago
StoryAs Moss mrpeterjthomas210 years 8 months ago
StoryBaby born one day … Rhiannonw210 years 8 months ago
StoryInnocence Lost skinner_jennifer1410 years 8 months ago
StoryDear Philip, June 20, 2010 jeand410 years 8 months ago
StoryNothing the Stone Baby camilla410 years 8 months ago
StoryNote To Mind Angela McCrimmon210 years 8 months ago
StoryTripping the Light Fantastic luigi_pagano610 years 8 months ago
StoryThe Weight On My Back (poetry monthly) Bee1210 years 8 months ago
StoryWriting It Off Bee3310 years 8 months ago
StoryMRI and I Bee2410 years 8 months ago

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My stories

Where is he? Where is she?

First long journey on his own – we’d meet mid-way at Birmingham. Dad at home, the telephone rings: ‘Will you accept this call?’ A voice begins, ‘I’ve...

How should we pray?

[Continuing the hymn-for-Sundays series] Our Father in heaven so holy, may many more honour you wholly, your good kingdom come, your perfect will...

Dear Dad … 2)

[not about 50 years of technological changes this time, but about Mum’s life after his death …]
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Weekly Holiday

[Continuing the hymn-for-Sundays series] All long for a day free to fill with nothing – or whims of their will, – so often depressing, the emptiness pressing – God’s precepts can satisfy …

Unseasonal Hail!

Under fire from pelting ice granules, like gravel chucked, crunching underfoot – soon melts, sun shines, briefly.

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