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The Dream

By: AutumnMooncakesNovember 19, 2015

The Dream peeks

Out her bedroom door,

A little girl with wild curls

And a long frilled skirt

At the lively party outside.


Tall, stately adults

Mingle and talk

About numbers, facts,

And statistics

Their speeches grounded in truth,

Cemented in reality.


The Dream would like to join them,

Tell them her own thoughts,

But she is afraid

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In the Woods

By: AutumnMooncakesNovember 16, 2015

She sits in the cradle of nature

The leaves rustle above her


In a loving lullaby

Autumn leaves tickle her legs

The scent of natural wood

Fills her lungs


A sheaf of paper on her lap

She writes and draws

With her heart and soul

Fragrances of warm bread

Waft downwind from

The cabin as brown

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All That Was Left Was Ash (A short story)

By: I_dreamed_a_dreamNovember 14, 2015

Hey everyone! This is my first post, but I will be hopefully writing more. This is an original short story I wrote set during World War 1 in Rouen, France. Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments!


Rachelle stared out her

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Deathly Depths (The Siren’s Song)

By: AutumnMooncakesNovember 13, 2015

Come beneath the snow-white foam

Sink under the crashing waves

Your life is too tough and hard

End it in the raging sea


The ocean is so icy cold

Come make it your final home

Let the black waves be your cradle

Let the crashes be your lullaby


Isn’t life too long to

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Hello My Treacherous Friends: Chapter 3

By: VaughanGirlNovember 13, 2015

Chapter 3: Goodbye, Kansas

Eighteen-year-old Anastasia's eyes flew open when she was startled by the sound of her alarm clock going off. Groggy and almost blind without her glasses, she reached her hand out from underneath the worn, quilted blanket and over to the nightstand. Patting

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Hello My Treacherous Friends: Chapter 2

By: VaughanGirlNovember 13, 2015

The title says it all. This is a rough draft of the second chapter of the story I'm writing.


Chapter 2: Again, With Feeling

The elderly man was running a bit late for the spring concert and he hobbled alone through the front entrance of the elementary

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Holding the Hands of Time

By: AutumnMooncakesNovember 7, 2015

Time runs endlessly,

Down the racetrack.


Many run ahead of him.

They say he is too slow.


Others run behind him.

They say he is too fast.


Time is never fast

Or slow.

He always runs the same,

His pace cannot be altered.


Few run beside him,

Hold his hand,

Accept his unchangeable speed.

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When Old Music Meets Modern

By: AutumnMooncakesNovember 7, 2015

I love old-fashioned music, and I love modern music, but when artists blend the two types into one piece, the effect is truly magical. Here is some music that blurs the lines between time periods:

‘Flight of the Silverbird’ by Two Steps From Hell – war

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