http://slow.writerscafe.org/jakesampson The original writings of author Jake E. Sampson en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775990533 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Me-A-Do, For I can Come hither youngmagpie, where is your loyal spouse?Lonesome we shall be,empty our house.Of course fair bird,you should not despair, fame fortune you have not even to repair? Bow down shouldothers to your .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1272987/ Vanity Mirror, a blade tostrike the very soft heart, fuel both hatred and spiteThough you, dear boy,to stare.Fear is forgotten,you’re not really there.Sinner are you seen,dear-vain boy, your cares Centered only tobrush, i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1272986/ The Tree Does Welcome  A fashion ofbranches, the thicket does follow thawDoes bode dear Edwardto sit once more.To tip to page, thelexis the same, no more do book �"trees do age. Dear Edward, pardonyour s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1272985/ The Moon-Dew Dress Grass flutters, treesswayI saw the crimsonmountain line in autumn, this day.To the winds Imurmured ‘don’t go please stay’For the shimmering,naught trees, they may.Before too soon, on winter&rs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1269820/ Rose It is notfrightening, the thorn the spike.I stand to defend itsbeauty,Belong to no man, notgodNor clergy.Only life does holdHer key. I held fair Rosebetwixt my gripBelonged to me shewhispered,Yet f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1269816/ The Bard and The Dragon Such travels, thatnatural wasteThrough beauty clearand fluid.Don’t fret or fumble,as the motherShe is tending to it.Bestowed. Do tell towhom for the tulip’s bell.As stone stands fastand s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1269815/ At The Foot Of The Massif  I lay at the foot ofan impossible massifNo hope or charity tospareWhat could I offer,except a kindhearted kiss?Fear not, onlookersand magistrates, you do not frighten me.I cast myuncertainties .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1269159/ I Hath The Will  I hath the willBut not the wordsTo sculpt the foresights of my quill.I wonder, oh I do, whether I would fall before I standelatedOver the veracities I have created. It is not, nor shall it be, the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1269157/ In the near future, humans are artificially mass-produced in factories, with zero genetic impurities. These perfect human beings are called Puritans. As the Puritan administration gains control of the http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1230364/ A young budding journalist(Edwin Cross) is put through hell when he accepts an offer to interview notorious murderer Lloyd Stone. Living in the heart of frozen Russia, Edwin soon discovers that there http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jakesampson/1230356/