http://slow.writerscafe.org/chrislaverty77 The original writings of author Christopher Laverty en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776032330 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 PrologueKindlybe seated, welcome to you all. The stories that you are about to hearwere gathered from the tales of village folk, listened to while on mytravels - tales of our beloved Anneth's glory days, told in thehope they never be forgotten. Allowme to begin then, if you will... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/3127139/ Away with Loneness - he whose winter bites,who haunts the wasted wilderness and shores,born in thunder on the misty moors;who, bred by wolves, with howling fills the nights.But bring his smooth-browed sister Solitude,decked with autumnal charms and plenitude,with contemplation's brimming horn of flo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962548/ I have a tale as strange as fantasy -of deadly passions and possessive rage,of gains in knowledge thrown in jeopardy -set in Messina - in the dawning ageof voyages of bold discovery -of muskets, cannons, and the printed page -a small and charming city, yet a placewhere wild events imperiled once our.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962547/ I tell of fairies more ill-natured now,from Kernow folktales - that I, Billy Puck,heard in my family - this one's of howa local robbed a tomb - but vengeance struck,from those that guarded it - whose dreadful wrathcaused these bizarre events and aftermath.It was a stormy night on Trencrom Hill;a fig.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962546/ It happened all so quickly down in there -there in the mine - working away was I -all of a sudden - gave me such a scare -rocks were falling - I had no time to tryescaping - or in helping other men -no warning was there - not a thing - when -the tunnel caved in. All in a sprawlothers were lying abou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962545/ How sore my legs - but brings this fire much cheer,come gather round, I'm pleased in meeting you -Billy Puck am I, and hail from near -droll teller, balladeer, and singer too.But pays it not - I tell my tales insteadin hopes of earning here a meal and bed.Old Kernow then the setting is - a placewher.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962544/ Cold is the air - still are the trees -the clouds are streaked with red;hushed are the birds as dusk descendsand here you lay your head.A whirling bird above is shrieking -the bird of destiny;of midnight born, with plume as black -unearthly thing to see.A pawn you were in unseen quarrelsof vying dei.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962543/ Spirited upon your wings,reveries bring boundless things;with a pinch the sprightly fairyblithely lures me while unwary,guiding me with tuneful fluteround your orchards hung with fruit.Vintages from caverns coolbrim in crystal goblets full -sooth the spirit's inner strife,nature's binding blood of l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962542/ The bee-loved foxgloves could not charm the mead -geraniums their full-lipped petals fendagainst first frosts - bright roses not ascendthe cottage arbours - if they did not feed;the peonies' brief buddings won't succeed,nor irises, round the borders, with them blend -yet there are plants I have not .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962541/ Old tales of knights and honour I have turned:sat at baronial tables, seen a hall -through plots I've overheard - now rise, now fall -spied cloistered sighs, felt pangs of lovers spurned;breathed thin-high epic airs - watched cities burned,while noble foes charged to the trumpet's call -yet there's .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962540/ Disturb her not - she is not far;she hears our voices - have no doubt.Death does not her beauty mar -not blow her candle wholly out.Her features almost break in movement -her cheeks still hold their hues of pink;her lids might open any moment -her spirit hovers round the brink.She's gone not to some.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962538/ The sky is charged; a veil of frozen dewenshrouds the earth; the distant hilltops wearthe evening's pall of sullen, sable hue.Still is the wind. With cries that fill the air,the haunted voices of the valley sharetheir secrets awful and enthralling,of nameless sins and tales appalling,at which the tr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2962536/ 'If a bird builds a nestto lay itseggs in itThen, itnever flies away againBut staysin itOn theeggs in its nestEven whilestrangled.' - thechatelaine's vow.The momentthat I saw - that sombre day -thosestern, forbidding walls that lay ahead,thoselifeless .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2951543/ From a story by Boccaccio http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2951538/ Itell of fairies more ill-natured now,fromKernow folktales - that I, Billy Puck,heardin my family - this one's of howalocal robbed a tomb - but vengeance struck,fromthose that guarded it - whose dreadful wrathcausedthese bizarre events and aftermath.Itwas a stormy night.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2919817/ Statement to the Society for Psychical Research (SPR):OnJuly 21st,1984, I had started my shift at 3am, doing a lookout known among thecrew as the doom watch. Almost all of the rest of the men were, bythen, fast asleep at that hour. We were at that time making our way ac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2910701/ She'sin the field, not in the valley,andweaves a braid with fresh-blown flowers;she'sin the woods - not forests shady -withnature's music passing hours.She'sby the lake, not by the ocean,whosewaters seldom know commotion;she'sin the garden, not the moors,nornear the fal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2908745/ Modernbards - when you strike the lyrelet me not trudge through sludgeand mire,lost in the forests dark and tangledof yourperspectives jarred and mangled,encircled by a mist ofversesthat no revisiting disperses.Be like the oceans deepyet blue,where diving often brings sights new -where Psy.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2908649/ There isan echo in these breaking waves - thesewailing gulls, these midnight winds that moan, theunbroken silence of these caves - thesoundless echo of a soul alone. There arereflections in these crooked faces, theseempty streets, these pregnant clouds that roll .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2908585/ Abutterfly I thought I saw -withsnow-like wings the field explore;thesmiling grass you flitted on -yourfragile beauty caught my eye -I thengave chase - with longing sigh -butblinked then looked - and you were gone.A spiderin its place I found -poisedmotionless; bene.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2908478/ Gales aregathering around your towers that lie crumbling -boltedgates and doors seem poised, the stained-glass windows restlessrattle -yet torevelry they're lost - deaf to the distant rumbling -childrenof the serpent - born of warriors once formed for battle.Leaflesstrees - w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2908349/ Earth,water, air and fire - creation's daughters -thatceaseless merge and melt into each other -as all isone - and he who creatures slaughtersis well tothink he kills a distant brother,for allthe winding threads of life are boundinto theweb of destiny. If changesaren'tj.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2908040/ Itwas an Eastern cistern underground -achamber filled with columns; once the keytowaters pure - slaves built it for the free;apatterned pillar yet unchanged was foundwhosefrozen tears seemed but to break in sound -thetears were notes - a silent symphonyofsuffering they made.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2908027/ Twokinds of flowers are in life's garden sown -thefirst are words and deeds that spread a name;forlaurel wreaths and eulogies they're grownthatblow such blossoms of the mind to fame.Thesecond are the flowers of the flesh - theirtenders wish beyond the grave to beborne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907886/ Tonight Isaw two cities side by side,walkednameless backstreets by the day forgot;saw blankand faceless windows hollow eyed,behindclosed shops that snarled together squat;heardsilent screams that pierced white heated nights,thatstirred the trash the strewed the empty lot... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907879/ Onlythe lone, resounding roar, ofwaters that you tireless pour, breaksthis solitude, silent and still, asyou your ancient task fulfil - offresh ablutions at your shrine, withwaters pure and crystalline, thatclamorous the canyon flood, while.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907870/ TonightI've waited long for sleep, and lie frustrated - yet I hear:athousand voices tweet unseen, the dark rejoicing with their cheer -thechant of crickets numberless, that stirs the thickets murmurous,withecstasies of melodies, of evening music amorous.Achorus with harmony as .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907868/ Autumn - your mild and melancholy strainsdie in this air that's tinged with distant chill;wreathed in your harvest yields that swelled the plains,you fade from farms and fields whose barns lie still.The pallid Sun and northern blasts commingleto sweep away the remnants of your bl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907857/ QuaintLorianna all adore;aroundher dove white facewavesraven hair - with eyes where lightanddarkness interlace.Elusivenymph that all adore;thoughshe inhabits earthsheseems of lore; to hearts on firesheunaware gives birth.Sweetbitter nymph.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907837/ Blackbird- silent sat upon this headstone,inthis antique graveyard wide and drear;sostill - who so suddenly had flown;doyou come - when steals the twilight near -thesecrets of these sleeping souls to hear?Poetof the shadows, wind swift bird,tellwhat shady haunts you've .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907829/ We'llno more pass the moonlight hoursbythe riverside,orshare a silence as we strollbeneaththe colonnade.Orshelter take from sudden showers,orwatch the settling tide,orlie still when we moments stoleinsome forgotten shade.Thosetender days, of light and shade .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2907823/ Philip returns to an office block to urgently pick up something he'd left from a previous visit, but mysterious things gets in his way. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2880474/ Riding theclouds of the turbulent skies -clamouroushooves are your gathering voice,minglingfast with your ominous cries -thunder andlightning's your music of choice;even inbattle your honour not dies -but in theland of the dead will rejoice.Melded's yourflesh with the a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858111/ Withwordless murmurs, clasped in agonies of pleasure,theyhuddled in amorphous masses by the river;writhingthey gorged on joy and pain in equal measure,waitingfor the one thing that would them deliver.Grotesqueand bulging boils and sores their bodies ravaged,whilevacant eyes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858109/ Isit the nearby tread of furtive feet -insistentin the darkness - or the soundofnocturnal noses - probing the ground -ortrees - that rustle in this sleepless heat -deepin this sudden solitude complete?Isit a kinship that perhaps I've foundwithnature when it stretches far ar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858108/ Twosprings we drink from, since the days we met:one is asilver stream - a draught brings joy,tranportsme far to fields that never cloy,wheredrowsed on flowers, I would time forget.Nearby - the next brings sorrow and regret:turns fireto ice - turns to a scornful toya formerlov.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858107/ Toadd more notes to birdsongs would - I know -onlymar the passing hearer's bliss,morehues just cloy the glory of the rainbow;monarchscrowned would little gain or missifcrowned once more for show - while here belowthisscene is such that art I can dismiss.Tranquilit sits in w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858106/ Could Icast spells - antique and gilded cup -clayguardian - whose tableaux chroniclethesefishermen their sea-nets lifting up,thesefoxes eyeing gleans in baskets full -clayman-at-arms - that battles time's keen edge,thatshields from its advance this pastoral sceneof twopale.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858104/ England - I never thought I'd feelthisneed for damp and milder days;abroadI roam yet wish to steal             fromtiring rays.Emptythese southern climes now seem;emptythe sun, the sea, the leisure,thesepassing souls. This fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858100/ Withscanty roots upon an earthen stoveyousup by homely hearth; for long you dwellwithinthis city, sip its public well -theycall you Liberty; for you they strove -thesecitizens - and sought you to betrove.Hushednow these streets have grown. Hear you that knell -seeyou these .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858099/ Downon the heath I met my lover, by arches strewn with vines and flowers;wekissed each other, then took cover, from skies portending Aprilshowers.WellI remember then I said - as evening fell so still and solemn -that'flames will out, if too much fed' - as shadows grew around eachc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858098/ Onemorning in my garden - as the mistdissolved - a thousand apples ripe and goldIeager saw, that hung from boughs of gold.Ipondered which to eat, when through the mist -theresquatting in the stiff and frozen grass -Isaw a thing - still as the dead - a toad.Istood as still.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858097/ Thesky's as charmless as a filthy rag -asdaylight breaks, the traffic shuffles filed;pavementsare tired and littered, bins are piled,theclay-like Sun's first smiles with sadness sag.Thecity's ragged as a vagrant hag,andseems a lightless land for souls exiled -yetsomehow by .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858092/ My flower - do these blemishes you taint?Dothey betray the canker's cold caressandcall the sunset on your loveliness?DoesMortality its crimson paint?Whosebite corrupts your petals - chaste and quaint -whatserpent's loathsome lips might you aggress?Haveyou been licked by creeping frosti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858089/ Your gatesare open - Emelie,yourturrets are unmanned;across thegleaming moat I seeyou wavewith welcome hand.No horses,arrows, swords or shieldsforvictory I need;whilebloodless stays the streets and fields -your eyesI try to read.But justthe sound of your sof.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858083/ Ever brushaway the sleepthataround the mind may creep -not theone of lunar hourswhen itflies to airy bowers, but theslumbers oft that stealoverwaking eyes they seal -stealthyelf that leads it stray,blind tohigh delights of day.As thetreasures of the mindneed.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858081/ Ifbeauty be a tingling taste of terror -drinknot too deep; for he who tempted delvesinthe beyond - may see a land in errorwhereunimagined horrors find themselves.Astatue once I saw - serene its face,thoughround it one traced pain - the eyeswerefixed and riveted - a dreadful.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858079/ Thoughages leave your chalk white cliffs unchanged -were I atraveller, they'd not preparemy spiritsfor the scene that waits - estrangedyourbroken days I walk, days full of care;no dawndispels the curling fog you wear,driftingthe oceans rudderless - a shipno captainhelms; wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858064/ Higher andhigher over oceans roaring - vain wasyour writhing - captured, fevered snake; this birdyou yearned for - whose claws were knawing deep inyour heart - claws that your thirst might slake - hasdropped you on the waves that heedless break. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858063/ The Idle Hours have found me out once more,preyed on my straying thoughts - to murk and mire you've cast them down in chains; lured by your lyrethey pace across the starless moors and shore.You candle - like the flame of time you glow -absorbed, unflinching as the gleaner.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chrislaverty77/2858061/