The Bowman

The Bowman It was his excellence and ability, Which drew her into his ranks. The tension both light and firm His touch erotic, in its strength. Tender and gentle in its pull, Wanting in its release. Her tension grew steadily with The drawing of his beast For her, the time had finally come. The silence as… Read More The Bowman


Old pens and inky sprays. Weathered tips dance bout the days. Mental spews and fractal thoughts, Tie up the ends with spidery knots. Words emerge, a noun, a phrase, Sentences flow like grasshoppers graze. Paragraphs roll over mountainous cascades. So this is the way stories are laid.