Free Stories and Poetry
Oh, do we love Sundays? Sundays at one point were my favourite day. I always had the day off and so did my love. We used to sleep late, be silly (mandatory), drink way too early in the day (like breakfast time) and basically be ourselves. It was our time to do with as we wished.
Here is a poem...
I think the term tomboy does little to explain the joy of the girl who just likes to "go for it!"
I remember a friend when I was in my late teens who was regarded as a bit of a tomboy. She was so little understood by both girls and boys of our age group, and yet she was far more "female" if you like than anyone else I knew. She just liked climbing trees. So, here is a poem.
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The Stink Is Here
North London, 1976. The longest, hottest summer on record. The water is running out and the kids hate their parents. Which bunch of idiots would think it is a good idea to start a band?
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