love and loss (Remove filter)
The Last Letter (Continued)
David sat in his childhood room, the stack of letters trembling in his hands. Each one was a window into his mother’s heart—a heart he had taken for granted. Her words, so full of love and longing, cut through the years of silence between them.
He found a letter dated ten years earlier. It spoke of her hope to see him at Christmas. He hadn’t come that year. Another letter, written five years ag...
Saturday 28th December 2024 1:36 pm
The Last Letter
Evelyn sat by the window, her frail hands clutching a pen. Outside, snow blanketed the empty street, muffling the world in silence. The house was still except for the faint ticking of a clock, marking moments that felt too long and too short all at once.
She stared at the blank sheet of paper on the desk before her. For years, she'd written to her son, David. She’d sent birthday cards, Christma...
Saturday 28th December 2024 1:24 pm
Bankruptcy
Grief is costly and I was broke,
Not you or him or any bloke,
Could have filled my pot of casting love,
He pulled my purse-strings from above.
That heavy weight of stress I threw,
I shrunk and stole myself from you.
That constant stream of words that played,
For them, a fortune I'd have paid!
I foraged deep for that sweet tune,
But woeful blues, they filled the room.
You wouldn't know t...
Monday 22nd June 2015 12:29 am
Recent Comments
Holden Moncrieff on Not Every Eye
53 minutes ago
Holden Moncrieff on Better Sight...
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'What can writers and poets possibly do in the age of Trump, Farage and Starmer?'
2 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Civilities
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
4 hours ago
John Marks on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
4 hours ago
Hélène on Better Sight...
4 hours ago
Hélène on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
5 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
6 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
7 hours ago