Mike Singleton π Mikeydred
Bio
A Weaver of Tales and Poetry
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Stories (500/3485)
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Is This Heaven?
One day you wake up and you don't have a care in the world. You are not sure how it came to this. You look outside the sun is shining, it has rained during the night so that means everything that needs watering has been watered.
By Mike Singleton π Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
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The Messengers of Midnight stood on the hill outside the village, and in every front room hung a painting of them. The village was deserted.
By Mike Singleton π Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
Floating
Floating in a warm pool, looking like Ophelia but full of warmth and life. Feel the soothing water and the sun on your face and body. A gentle breeze blows, and the music of birdsong and bees surrounds you, blowing through rushes at the water's edge. You move your hands and feet enjoying the feel of the water, it is almost as good as the warmth of your duvet when you wake and don't want to leave your bed. This is a feeling you want to last for a long time, so soothing, and spreading happiness through your whole body. There is no pressure here, just warmth, love and comfort You are one with Gaia and nature and your soul is replenished by this feeling Let the feeling wash over you, and heal your soul
By Mike Singleton π Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
The Quest For The Blessed Scimitar
'The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished.' The story starts here: The Quest For The Blessed Scimitar So, it was decided. The town needed the Scimitar and a Champion to defeat Kongaray, or at least subdue it.
By Mike Singleton π Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
Grass
To lie on green grass with someone you are close to, between the trees and the river. Feel the breeze, and the sunshine, enjoy the bees and butterflies flitting between buttercups, sunflowers, asters and daisies. The smell of newmown grass. Listen to the water flowing in the river, maybe you could dip your feet in there, and see the fish swimming, without a care. As we lay on the grass we hear birdsong and see swifts and swallows above us and they sing to the world, flying free. Our cares are forgotten as we recuperate and relax and become one with nature and appreciate it's beauty.
By Mike Singleton π Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
