lhj;.j.,/./''kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
Vampire/Romance. He was her childhood imaginary friend. When she was sad he was always there. Now she was home to bury her parents. She was back in the home that held no love for her. The only time she had felt love was when Marcus came to her at night to hold or talk to her. So why was he here now? She was a grown woman. Not a child anymore. Beth didn't need a childhood imaginary friend but was she ready for the way she did need Marcus.
He'd watch over her from the time at the age of four her crys called out to him as he slept below his old family home. He'd gone to her as soon as the sun had gone down and had watched over her until she was sent off to school. He had know with just one look at her as a child that she was meant to be his. He just had to wait for her to grow up and return to him. Now she was back. Their time had finally come.
Guy Boulianne nous livre ici son premier recueil de poèmes. Poète autodidacte, il n'est d'aucune école sinon celle de la vie avec ses aléas quotidiens et ses instants fugaces de joie intérieure.
Ses poèmes reflètent dans un premier temps sa prise de possession du monde qui l'entoure, puis phénomène d'osmose, il recrée ce monde dans un symbolisme subtil, visionnaire. Symbolisme fait de correspondances où les sons et les couleurs se heurtent faisant naître une musique qui trahit la passion, la révolte, la douceur :
- douceur où s'échappe une sensibilité naïve et délicate ;
- passion où perce une sensibilité sensuelle et amoureuse ;
- révolte où gronde une sensibilité profonde et cruelle.
- Ce recueil de poèmes fut publié une première fois en 1983.
Toby hears a small rap on the window. He glances up from the terribly sad story and is surprised to find a shadowy face staring at him. The figure starts to form words on the frost of the window. When it finishes, the face is gone. Toby walks to the window to get a better look. The face had written two simple words, but they had meant everything in the world: Follow Me.
A story of a word that held a curse and a blessing. One of the greatest gifts and deadliest poisons is explored, and found to be easily turned one way or the other.
An E- Magazine of Gujarati Poems. Re started after 24 years. Editor- Yogesh Vaidya.
well accepted by Gujarati Readers/poets.Photography and other arts are also targeted.
Part One: A girl is riding the train to work and her reading is interrupted when
an old man sits down across from her.
This is a new style I'm trying out. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I might still give the girl and the old man names also...
I have started so many stories that I want to finish, but just don't have the time or attention span for. Here are some of those beginnings, which I will add to eventually!!
lhj;.j.,/./''kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
Vampire/Romance. He was her childhood imaginary friend. When she was sad he was always there. Now she was home to bury her parents. She was back in the home that held no love for her. The only time she had felt love was when Marcus came to her at night to hold or talk to her. So why was he here now? She was a grown woman. Not a child anymore. Beth didn't need a childhood imaginary friend but was she ready for the way she did need Marcus.
He'd watch over her from the time at the age of four her crys called out to him as he slept below his old family home. He'd gone to her as soon as the sun had gone down and had watched over her until she was sent off to school. He had know with just one look at her as a child that she was meant to be his. He just had to wait for her to grow up and return to him. Now she was back. Their time had finally come.
Guy Boulianne nous livre ici son premier recueil de poèmes. Poète autodidacte, il n'est d'aucune école sinon celle de la vie avec ses aléas quotidiens et ses instants fugaces de joie intérieure.
Ses poèmes reflètent dans un premier temps sa prise de possession du monde qui l'entoure, puis phénomène d'osmose, il recrée ce monde dans un symbolisme subtil, visionnaire. Symbolisme fait de correspondances où les sons et les couleurs se heurtent faisant naître une musique qui trahit la passion, la révolte, la douceur :
- douceur où s'échappe une sensibilité naïve et délicate ;
- passion où perce une sensibilité sensuelle et amoureuse ;
- révolte où gronde une sensibilité profonde et cruelle.
- Ce recueil de poèmes fut publié une première fois en 1983.
Toby hears a small rap on the window. He glances up from the terribly sad story and is surprised to find a shadowy face staring at him. The figure starts to form words on the frost of the window. When it finishes, the face is gone. Toby walks to the window to get a better look. The face had written two simple words, but they had meant everything in the world: Follow Me.
A story of a word that held a curse and a blessing. One of the greatest gifts and deadliest poisons is explored, and found to be easily turned one way or the other.
An E- Magazine of Gujarati Poems. Re started after 24 years. Editor- Yogesh Vaidya.
well accepted by Gujarati Readers/poets.Photography and other arts are also targeted.
Part One: A girl is riding the train to work and her reading is interrupted when
an old man sits down across from her.
This is a new style I'm trying out. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I might still give the girl and the old man names also...
I have started so many stories that I want to finish, but just don't have the time or attention span for. Here are some of those beginnings, which I will add to eventually!!