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Meanwhile, in the Throne Room

Kapok hung his head.  His father glared at him from his skull-adorned throne.  Valdah the Pitiless struggled to master his temper.

“My son, you bring shame and dishonour to our House,” he kept his voice even.  660 more words

William Stafford

Broken Promise

Who rings the doorbell at a time like this?  Who on Earth is out on a night like this?  Gemma cursed under her breath, pressed pause on the rom-com she’d been enjoying, dropped the remote onto the sofa and hurriedly chewed the coffee crème she had popped into her mouth only seconds before.  581 more words

William Stafford

Freedom to Choose

– William Stafford, from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems

I have to choose my freedom. It is not given to me by role or position. 213 more words


Philippa's Room

“Thank you for coming, Professor.”  Mrs Martin led the elderly man up the stairs.  “I’m at the end of my rope.  I’ve tried everything and didn’t know where else to turn.” 486 more words

William Stafford


Helen was waiting for him when he arrived at the restaurant.  It was the same place where they had had their first date three months ago.  454 more words

William Stafford

Now has come, an easy time

Now has come, an easy time. I let it roll. There is a lake somewhere
so blue and far nobody owns it.
A wind comes by, and a willow listens gracefully. 51 more words



William Stafford:

A writer is a person who enters into sustained relations with the language for experiment and experience not available in any other way…A writer is not so much someone who has something to say as he is someone who has found a process that will bring about new things he would not have thought of if he had not started to say them. 569 more words