http://slow.writerscafe.org/Lane-roe The original writings of author Lane-roe en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776101796 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 We had just made the bus " Grant started running for ithalfway down the back street we always took. The bus driver was grumpy andunsocial, but it didn’t bother me too much. Grant chose a seat halfway down theback of the bus, on the left hand side. He smiled and put his arm around me -n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/1276669/ She walkedslowly to the piano; dust motes flying with every step she took. She sat downgently-her wrinkled hands hovering above the weathered keys. She looked over tothe chair, where her mother always used to sit. She remembered how her motheralways used to look, when the golden sun .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/1090723/ The greying hair and furrowed face frame the haggard, basset-hound eyes. They start to glisten in the light of the kitchen - highlighting and reflecting back the image that is sadness. Sadness is acceptable in so many places. In so many moments it is poignant and beautiful. But it seems so wholly un.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/1030465/ When all was lost, you came to meWhen faith had flown, you came to beWhen darkness fell and light had fledYou crawled onto my single bed Without a word, you let me knowThe strength and joy I’d yet to sowYou built me up and held my backYou nursed me from.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/898636/ A beating heart, a well-used penA cup of tea, at quarter to tenI sit and write the words that mustBe written before they gather dust With hair a mess, and glasses askewI seek to find the words most trueTo describe my frantic, frenzied faceAnd to justify my hu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/783793/  Shadows meet the upturned faceThe light it fades away.The face looks down and moans and sobsAt the memory of yesterday. The leaves, they shiver, like steely knivesThe water grows threateningly still.But the face, it sees nothing, with nose on the ground.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/782791/ Do not cry, do not fearDo not shed a single tearFor you were born and you are freeTo smell, to hear, to feel, to see You are here to feel it allTo feel the highs; the big, the smallTo feel the crushing miseryThat is part of you and part of me You.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/753605/ Gilded stars glare down at meTheir brightness hurts my eyesTo be like you; to be beautifulThe source of my jealous eyes. I try to love; I try not to careBut your beauty is like a knifeThe blade cuts down and shatters my heartIt drains away my blood giving lif.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/750726/ There’s a monster in my wardrobe, there’s a monster in myheadThey all tell me that I’m dreaming, that it’s gone and thatit’s deadBut they don’t understand; they don’t take the time to lookIn the shadows of my mind or in the pages of m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/741237/ Upon my wall sits a beautiful thing, a bird all made out ofthread.His black and gold eyes look playfully at me as it readswhat I have just said.His golden chest and red and blue head do jauntily sit onits perch.But it offers no words, no hint of a song, its colours arewha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/738828/ The fog is dense �" ahushed calm listens.A new day has begun;like it has begun so many times before.Winter’s cold shardsshatter the illusion of warmth from my mind.Not death do I seebefore me, but life.Frozen for one singlemoment; suspended between dre.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/738238/ I sit on my bed and count the starsThat are peeling off my roofTheir ember glow start to fade awayThe darkness the blinding proof. I sit and I listen with bated breathAs the footsteps pass my door‘Bang bang’ goes a gun, ‘doof doof’goes a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/736983/ Once I saw a bird, and I thought it rather fineTill it hopped right down my arm, and then drank near all my wine.I shoo'ed it with my hand, and it made a funny soundBut then I made a hoot, and it fell right to the ground.Sitting on its rump, it looked quite a funny birdThen it rolled onto its side, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Lane-roe/736743/