http://slow.writerscafe.org/hollyr The original writings of author holly en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776000683 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The sculpture is by Richard Reed and sits on my brother's property. Dick is his fine son. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/556299/             When Norden woke up the next morning, Delphy was sitting directly in front of him.             “Good morning,” she said.       &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/554947/ Indeed, Norden was very excited, despite his disappointment, by what the little girl was now saying.             “The edge shimmers and ripples in the moonlight, shimmers and ripple like mercury,” she told him. She had seen mercury.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/554904/ The ogre is introduced to us, then to his enemy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/554852/ This is a story written years ago for my children but was put away and forgotten. My youngest daughter wants to see it completed. What needs changed? Is the whole thing is too derivitive? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/554677/ Written for a dear friend when his mother died in 2009. Perhaps not such fine poetry but his stories about his mother and her husband and six children make me smile even now. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/554522/ I thought I heard you that one time - remember -when I asked you "Let me" andyou murmered thunderingly NO.That was the No that healed,No that saved my brittle soul. And even thoughyou never spoke in just that wayagain, I've felt your YES and sometimes just your noiseles.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/550381/ Fear of being burned with the same brand as an outlawed friend makes us small. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/550198/ There's no dignity in aging - maybe that's why some kids understand the old instinctively http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/549424/ written in the mid-1970's, just recently found again http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/546370/ Grief http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/333731/ Not a sterling piece of writing but at least I'm writing http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/305060/ Written for "Sonneteers Lend Me Thy Tears" contest. I meant to write a sad love sonnet but wound up having a giggle with it. Sorry Fran! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/298403/ Dr. Thomas K. Reed died March 16th, 1966 - he was 65. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/298359/ This is for a challenge I said I'd never try on the Vicious Circle. It's my second serial killer poem, I know, but I don't really have a problem... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/292117/ I'm not very fond of rhyming poetry but I've seen several poems that were quite wonderful that rhymed so I thought I'd give it a try. A fast write so I'm open for critique (as always). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/289110/ A harmless Ohio horror story http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/285114/ I owe my life to women who courageously kept the door open http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/277576/  1952 Mommy Get in the wagon.I said, get in the wagon,don’t stand there crying.You’re four and a half now –a big girl, a bad girl.You want me to give yousomething to cry for? Get in this wagon –you asked your Daddy,you begged for this .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/277565/ He has a little habit, sucha pretty little habit of delivering funny tributes on occasions small and large.Did you see the card he sent mewith the black crepe and thegraveyard with one cartoonishheadstone inscribed "You're more than half way here."Now wasn't that amusing?.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/274627/ On Hokkaido's cold turfthe crane teacher stumbles,heavy legs pounding,thick elbows flappingmiming a flight. His young crane just watches,neck stretched, uncertain.His foot lifts and pauses,drops while his head turns.He puzzles the meaning. In high, winded trebleth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/274559/ Ted Bundy was a serial killer in the 1970's. Handsome, devious and utterly without conscience. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/273340/ Inspired by a concert of works by Antonio Vivaldi. He was a red-headed priest who taught orphaned girls in Venice during the early 1700's. His orphans became renowned for the beauty of their playing. He's best known for his "Four Seasons". http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/273176/   Amid the deepening pine perfumeand the tall green of crowding firsthat smother sound and hold northlight at bay, we sail the streetsof Copper Harbor, Michigan. We navigate our destination'send, my compass set for toleranceand ship-lanes back to my oldlove o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/hollyr/273166/