II have died many times before my death.Long ago, in another lifetimeI learned to be what I am not.My thoughts are hallucinatory,broken sounds and refracted imagesthat drift through my mind like shadowsdancing on dimly lit walls.I sit...
II have died many times before my death.Long ago, in another lifetimeI learned to be what I am not.My thoughts are hallucinatory,broken sounds and refracted imagesthat drift through my mind like shadowsdancing on dimly lit walls.I sit...
It’s been ten years, but I can still pull colours from the corners of my mind. Letting me see rays of light that give way to hues of gold and red that carpet the grass. If only for a moment.
Breezes usher in on an orchestrated serenade of autumn. It enters cool and sedated, as subtle as the high notes of a summer song. Where once the raucous of beach-laughter and jubilant screams blended with crashing surf, they now trail off, dissipating int...
21st of March – Season 2 Ruben Rothschild was a typical seventeen-year-old boy: fascinated by pretty girls, liked action movies and absolutely loved fast cars. That’s why he was so happy to have a Dad who was a reporter in the F-X Series. It’s too bad he...
The olives and the ochres of withered blades,Of conkers and hazel all through the gladeDark evenings, too soon the clock going back,Squirrels secreting their nutty snacksA ring of fairies dancing on the lawn,Appearing in the early dawn The cool breeze br...
It was a day just like today I remember, Unseasonably mild for late in October; The trees were still apparelled in splendid colours, The shades of autumn, oranges and reds, rich browns, And brilliant gold, a last defiant display, Before winter took away t...
I hate summer, Because of the Hot weather. But I love it so, For the outdoor fun. The hiking, The swimming, And especially, The camping. I love the tank tops, Shorts and sandals. The sun dresses That makes me feel So pretty. I love the big sun hats, And o...
This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.So bright the birch leaves on my lawn,So soft their drift in weak sun's blaze;A spark of flame on Autumn's breath,Now damping down with faerie glaze.I scuff my...
Please note that this is a teaching story for children. I have included some xhosa words, so they can learn both facts and a new language in a fun way that helps them understand rather than merely memorise. Ilanga - SunImvula - Rain Umoya - Wind In a de...
The brilliance of it shines pale grey-white like a seagull's feathers in the sea of black inky oil, giving her the only light there was. The leaves in hues of red and shades of brown, yellows and oranges as vibrant as a stoplight and as dim as the mucky s...
Wind-torn from their perchTenacious leaves stay aloft'Til fate intervenes
The fiercest heat of blazing sun has finally stretched its arms And yawned its way towards the stairs embraced in cooling balmsOf fresh-breathed northern winds that chase the southern cloying heatAway from Summer's laughing face and happy, dancing feet. S...
As dying jewels of autumnal airDisplay their languished colours fair, ‘Twixt earth and sky the wraiths o’erhead Do drop their garments as a bed. The clothéd arms outstretched, aquiver, Do grasp the watery sun’s weak shiver. Those that were once full heavy...
It was a beautiful autumn morning in London. I woke up to the birds chirping outside my window. I yawned and slowly got out of my bed. I looked at my bedside table and found my phone. I looked at the time, it was just 8 o'clock. It was my day off. I went...