Vanessa Whiteley > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

among patchwork frosted fields horses and scattered sheep crop on brittle grass crinkled leaves hang from trees thorns of yellow gorse ..

Sometimes she stands in silence, motionless, desolate in a dress of mournful black but now and then like a gentle caress her face touches the..

A toddler dressed in pink hat and scarf stands on rocks: her arms outthrust like an unwrapped doll. Her family clings, like limpets. Their voi..

Akin to a Bird-of-Paradise, swathes of blonde hair livid with blue plumes, he ambled past the local hospital, gay pride in every step. A lov..

There is a willow grows aslant the brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did she come. How insa..

I picked out four orangey yellow peppers, skins smooth to the touch and took them back to your place with the rest of the shopping. We spent t..

Miles from anywhere We are lost in primal woodlands. Squirrels scamper across pine-coned paths. Birds crowd our conversation. Summer’s f..

Either, said the man in the scarlet suit, I can spend my time making presents no one needs, not even, the little children: or I can make on..

"Who killed C**k Robin?" "I," said the Sparrow, "With my bow and arrow, I killed C**k Robin." "Who saw him die?&q..

A young American soldier misses her mother and her home in Maine where she skimmed stones across Sebago lake. It's where she skinned her knees ..