http://slow.writerscafe.org/BonnyRivers The original writings of author BonnyRivers en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1779137316 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 You drove the seed of doubt home, Left it there pulsating - Long enough for meaning to ripen.The words you planted photosynthesised towards the breach of insult -The terrible foliage unfurling -Toward a hope of redemption which never came.Nothing there to stop the clawing roots, To hal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2088935/ I was lucky enough to witness this example of pure, unrequited love, due to being unlucky enough to be in hospital in the first place.God bless our nurses and that little boy wherever he is now. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2054697/ A very short narrative exploring possible baby blues or is there more to it than that? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2054679/ Substance of chalk,honeycombed hollow, once hallowed scaffold. Submerged, merged, minglingof flesh under seal of earth and night -Day brings horror, sun bleached, scored and shaven. What Primary force designed thisgrotesque pupp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2054674/ I’d rather fill my mind with books, than pile money into jars,I’d rather hear the cuckoo’s song, than idle talk in bars,I’d rather be a friend of one, than race after the crowd,So that I could feel wanted, to make myself feel proud. I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2054667/ One breath, inflate this dust formed carapace, only the Omega abides here:Plunge into my flesh -have this and be done with me, it’s a good’un, strong, white, marrow laden.Shape, mould, warp this ossein form,sacrificial putty -in your ima.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053501/ Is the soul tethered to our mortal selves? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053500/ My finger travelled lightly along the iridescent black feathers. It hadn't moved, just sat staring up at me with it's head cocked to one side, a slight darkening of color visible in the centre of it’s beady eye. The rose tinted breast inflated with each breath. I knew they were watching me fro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053291/ What will become of all your realisations Branagh, your soul searching and finding yourself at the end of the day? The cliched ‘shabby chic’ wooden wall hangings meant to be inspirational fall kind of flat in the soupy darkness don’t they? ‘Live, Love, Dream’ my arse. E.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053290/ One girl's battle with her childhood demons follows her into adulthood. Set in a small rural village, this novel explores the changing landscape of Irish society. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053289/ When you cannot feel the sunlight, even though it lights your face;When belonging is for others, leaving you without a place;If every moment is a struggle, just to take another stepand you don’t know where to turn or how to seek out help; If memories.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053248/ Long after all the chaos, when the visitors have gone home,When the only sound is silence, and you feel so all alone.When the clock begins to tick again, yet you cannot tell the time,When songs are sung and stories told, but for you they’ve lost their.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053242/ A sacred rite in itself this process! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053211/ We had a great snowstorm recently which was dubbed Beast from the East - based on a true story! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053210/ The ghosts of greats past drop by to say hello to Boland, have a whiskey amongst the misty cliffs then melt away once again into eternity http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053209/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053047/ My daughter created the image at 11 yrs of age - I still love it as much as the first day she brought it home. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2053026/ I really want a tattoo, some ink to seep deep,Down into cells ignored. Something potent, profound, breaking ground. No colour, that just fades. Words only remain where creases and folds swallow them up, In time to spit them out amongst bones flayed. Sentiments etched in eter.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2052996/ This is a short sample from a novel I'm working on. North American setting, Top Gun meets Coyote Ugly meets Titanic! It's complicated ;) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/BonnyRivers/2052991/