My Dragon, The Tetralogy: Part 1 – My Dragon by Ivor Steven Original Post A monstrous Dragon, breathing fire Did arise from the gurgling mire Dark gangrenous green, from head to tail Claws blackened, sharp as nails Purple secretions, from his scaly chest A spear harpooned, a grizzly mess Nostrils ablaze,
By Steve Gray Previous Episodes Hello, Are You Open? Leonard had struggled to make his shop happen, he would go in after work and ‘fiddle’ His wife Jo, didn’t say anything, she knew that he could get depressed about things and that might simply shut him down some more.
by Brett J Cole I often feel I was born with a shadow, one that already found its way to me, long before the light hit my skin, or the air first found my lungs. A shadow that is as much of me as I am something of it, beginning
by Brett J Cole And so they all said c'est la vie, as we sailed upon the restless sea, but not a word was said by me, as I hung my head in shame. The drowning drifted endlessly, and I watched them almost enviously... For I could sadly
by Brett J Cole And so again I wake to that season which knows not of Summer's sun, nor the budding colours of Spring. It knows not of Winter's chilled kiss, nor Autumn's leaves at play. It's a season of and within
by Ivor Steven A monstrous Dragon, breathing fire Did arise from the gurgling mire Dark gangrenous green, from head to tail Claws blackened, sharp as nails Purple secretions, from his scaly chest A spear harpooned, a grizzly mess Nostrils ablaze, bloodied red Eyes seeping yellow maggot heads My Dragon’s
By Martin Smith Previous Episodes Tune in to listen live on 94.7 the Pulse or listen to a recording of the show, Monday Front Page with Ian Campbell Entering the library, we came upon a portly gentleman standing before a bookcase. He had a mop of wiry, white hair
A true story by Mel King I built a castle out of butter once Twenty kilograms of butter Wrapped in forty grease-proof wrappers It took a whole afternoon I was at work, on the clock I was pretty mad at my boss that day I worked long shifts at
by Elyse Harrison Previous episodes Fifteen years ago… Knock, knock, knock. From her bedroom, Clara could hear the faint sound of knuckles tapping on the front door. Her mother’s soft footsteps padded their way down the hallway and the door opened with a familiar creak. A male’s voice,
by Steve Gray Previous Episodes Colour me a Festival The Holi Festival was coming up, on the 22nd of March, the Nepalese community wanted to do something, the usual thing is to shower people and places in coloured powders, they did realise that although fantastic fun for participants it did