http://slow.writerscafe.org/theamberstone17 The original writings of author Whispering Pines en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776087621 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 This is a childrens story but could be adapted to be a larger, more intricate work. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/1083172/ The sky is darkeningwith ominous rumblingand birds scatter skittishly.The smell of damp clouds,and the taste of their shrouds,the air is full of energy.And so, in the absense of sound,waiting, the earth and the groundfor that light which flashes suddenly.Holding its breath for the sound of that crac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/975378/ Chapter 2                The next day dawned pale and rainy. The street outside was slick with the previous nights rain. Wren stared out of the rain painted window dismally. In Canada, there would be snow on the ground and .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/972954/ The Last DragonChapter 1The girl named Wren entered the bookshop by way of the wooden door on the side of it. The inside was faded and dusty, like something that nobody had taken care of in quite a while. The musty smell tickled Wren’s nose and she stifled a sneeze. One got the feeling, li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/972952/ A girl finds an old diary, which talks about the protection of a dragons egg. She pursues the mystery and finds something she never expected. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/972950/ The sun was shining brightly on the hills of Ireland. There was a smell of fresh tilled earth upon the air, and soapsuds. Mary O'Conner, twenty four years old, watched her two year old son, Brian, as he played in the washbucket. She laughed a little as she saw him take a dive into the soapy wat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/972947/ A quiet trickle of water,dripping onto smooth stone,the smell of flowers on the wind.The sound of leaves blowing in the breeze.the sun shines on baby leaves,growing up through the moist moss.Violets bloom in the shade,and spring is here. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/969489/ A trickle of water on borrowed stone,a living forest where ferns do growa softish light through foliage shines,a storm of which dark rainclouds sign.A secret flower in the shade,a cool dark pool where cattails wade.A emerald vine growing for the sky,a whispering stream with moss nearbya pile of rive.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/969488/ How madly cling the rosesto the moss grown crumbling wallperforming desperate poses,they'd rather cling than fall. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/969487/ This is about a Scottish moor http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/969480/ This is a poem about two people who fall in love, but are forced apart by war. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/969020/ This is a poem that I wrote during school one day in early spring. There is a kind of tree whose flowers are whispy and white. They are what inspired me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/theamberstone17/969019/