Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
dustEverything I worked for--
beauty of ages turned to rust,
have been lost
somewhere along the road
of my grand adventure, long since stowed
among the crackled leaves
litter'd 'pon th'eaves
of the palace turned to
The cloth I wove,
The dreams I sewed
--like the thread I spun--
all have begun
to trickle, to run
down the sides of my goblet (once filled).
my heroes are buried on the hill
in ages of
Blogs on This Site
Reviews and book lists - books we love!
The site administrator fields questions from visitors.
Like us on Facebook to get updates about new resources