seashore

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I have 88 stories published in 2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 540810 times and 90 of my stories have been cherry picked.
72 of my 2,234 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 74 votes

seashore's picture
Coral Jane

Mother and Daughter.

I joined Abctales in 2010 and my daughter Julia a year later (2011). Unfortunately due to ill health, despite having been a prolific writer since childhood, she only managed to post a small number of pieces whilst active on the site. Following her unexpected and preventable death in 2016, I posted more of her poems on my own account under her username, which seemed a logical step at the time.

In 2019 her entire body of work was published by Cerasuspoetry.com in a book entitled WAITING FOR ANOTHER VELVET MORNING, which is still available on Amazon (proceeds to charity}. Her original work still remains on her account Overthetop.

I don't write as much now, though the occasional piece pops up once in a while.

Coral Jane Macpherson (seashore)
Julia Jane Macpherson (Overthetop1) deceased in 2016

My stories

Cherry

The Late Miss Rigby

She is all the lonely people hiding behind doors, walking at night, experiencing life vicariously through lighted windows and television screens. She has watched him from

Not cherries again (IP)

Cherries, you say? But I've been there done that already. I even got the T-shirt (you know what I mean). I said my goodbyes before killing off a whole orchard
Cherry

Goodbye to the Cherry Orchard

On a warm fragrant May morning Anya tiptoes through her special place, one hand lifting swishing skirts free of the soft earth. My sunshine, my Spring she thinks, watching the light
Cherry

Colouring Gaugin

When I think of you my thoughts are yellow tinged with red, not the cool shades of lemon or cadmium (like the yellow Christ) but more the warm ochre of golden light on lady-skin
Cherry

The Tired Dancer

The tired dancer resting, took up her brush and created a choreography in paint and collage where her free-moving spirit could meander at will through clovered valleys and stormy hillsides,

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