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With Stuart FranceThe Triad of Albion
- The Doomsday Series
- Lands of Exile
By Sue Vincent
With Dr G. Michael Vasey
Books by Stuart France
Silent Eye Workbooks
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- The ultimate accolade?
- Together ~ Iain Kelly #writephoto
- Comfort #midnighthaiku
- Isolation or soul-elation? ~ Caroline Ormrod
- Bridge to Nowhere ~ Reena Saxena #writephoto
- St Albans – ‘Not built by hands…’
- When a house is no longer home… Stuart France
- #writephoto. Together
- Thursday photo prompt: Together #writephoto
- Photo prompt round-up: Wistful #writephoto
- As morning returns ~ Kerfe Roig #writephoto
- Open #midnighthaiku
- The Rabid Readers Review ‘Maljie, the episodic memoirs of a lady’ by Jim Webster
- Morning will come ~ Christine Bialczak #writephoto
- St Albans Abbey – ‘and unto God’…
- Seasons and Morning Mist ~ Wallie’s Wentletrap #writephoto
- One Thing (After Another)…
- Wistful ~ Honoré Dupuis #writephoto
Daily Archives: November 14, 2016
When looking at this photo, I noticed the orbs again, those floating round spheres. Some say they are just dust particles, some believe they are orbs, or spirits, floating around you. My tanka today embraces the orbs in the photo, … Continue reading
Launched, childhood dreams rocket upward through infinite blue, little faces sweetened laughter bubbling- – dappled golden jeweled memories scatter, forest dances delightful as butterfly wings carry wishful mind explosions in brilliantly colored balloons, a to and fro gliding spin life’s folds nothing more than … Continue reading
Soft morning song. The quiet language of joy Breathing beside me. I drink your smile As you dream, Touch you with my eyes And remember peace.
With a couple of hours to spare on a glorious late-autumn morning, a walk in the woods seemed like a good idea. Ashridge holds a lot of very special memories for me. Amongst other things, there was the magic of … Continue reading
I was not always as you see me now, decaying old ready to take a final bow. I was beautiful tall and strong , a stable bet to set your life upon. It is cold at night and the wind … Continue reading
Tonight we will, should the skies be clear, see the moon closer than she has been in sixty years. Last night she rose huge and golden, then, as she climbed through the skies, wrapped herself in a silver veil.