http://slow.writerscafe.org/Wharton The original writings of author Wharton en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776051796 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Bingo gets between two friends. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/526257/ A poem of youth and innocence http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/447602/ A Tale about poseurs. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/447595/ Just my little version and tribute to Ambrose Bierce's Devil's Dictionary http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/442786/ Waiting http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/442015/ Memories are mixed blessings. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/440741/ Just a poem http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/440734/ The title pretty much says it all. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/438771/ At Richmond’s crowded Riverfront Park, the sun emitted shards of fractured light that cut out an image of a bespectacled man, dressed from head to waist in red and white stripes. Waldo hid within a shadow and tugged on his tightly knit stocking cap. Assured of his relative anonymity, he tuck.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/438768/ Poem about my late brother's death http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/438401/ What a sad day when we realize, we are our parents. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/438003/ You have to be resourceful at the North Pole http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/437919/ When the silence is brokenby whispers, I listen --for the truth is neverin lightning or thunderbut in the patter of soft falling rain.And I know that the wordsthat are seldom spokenare the hardest for oneto restrain. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/437911/ He wished he'd never heard the word, wished that when he had, he'd just ignored it, gone on drinking his coffee, nodding his head, pretending to listen like he usually did http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/437722/ Sometimes love is a long road. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/437675/ Tin cans, newspapers, old cereal boxes. He used what he had on hand to make a life-like re-creation of his wife. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/437661/ Not all gifts are wanted or deserved. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/437211/ She was a hotbed of roses http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/436916/ Quasi-philosophy http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/436732/  Once upon, I played the foolmet love, but let her go.can a man so wretched be,as one who does not know?Time became a wizened friendand showed me where I erredno matter where I turned about,no woman has compared.Far away across the sea, love had played unfair --for s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Wharton/436130/