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| Three Headed Clover Has Writer Friends. Read their work here and some of their work at their own websites. |
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| You never heard my wish All this time together, no chance Many a missed kiss While making a list Of our dreams What do we do now? It's been forty years Since my wish Some dreams were made But I never got a chance To tell you Forty years ago My heart was Taken by your best friend My wish was for you to Find your lifelong love. T.A. Thompson |
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| We did not arrive by this method of transportation. We do not ride in machines. We are the great Empath. |
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| haiku "What cat?" we asked, (Ignoring the miewing From inside our stomach) |
| This haiku was written by Three Headed Sarahs. Please contact this site if you know their whereabouts. |
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| We are not searching for three heads of Lucy. That is another species and not directly related biologically to Threeheaded Sarahs, although they sometimes are located in the same areas. Search for clues for the missing Sarahs at Lucy's Website. |
| Twilight Thoughts. Twilight’s violet melts through frozen skies, and dances along promenades of painted clouds. I sit on my hill, watching daylight’s grand finale. Days used to unfold forever, a year was an eternity, but now it seems time falls through my fingers, like some anxious white rabbit madly rushing to meet some queen. Well, I’m not ready to meet the queen just yet, I want to savour the journey across this chessboard of life, meander my way through checkered moments, delighting in the taste of every second. I want to stop chasing tomorrow and drink the present in deeply, fill my soul till it’s overflowing with the flavour of Today. Twilight surrenders to the night, and the sky wraps itself around me, stars and all. By Wintersflower |
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| haiku by Wintersflower the morning after: even the wallpaper is too loud |
| haiku by Lord Pineapple A cold day: My teeth chatter Out of tune. |
| Outside Sheffield Cathedral by Lord Pineapple Outside the green of purple skies Stretched away into neon gold. White leaves cluster the tombstones. And with the grey moss comes evening. And my head is still spinning with Jesus; With Paul, With the Revelation, With the hopes of two-thousand years (From the Essences to the beat-vicars) All shut inside, forever That cathedral of dreams, The frost creeps around me The darkening stones, And I feel a chill in my bones, As I walk under the archway, My eyes continually drown Within a lake of fire. |
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| Ian Thomas at a birthday party Oct., 2001 |
| You stand there all wobbly on tiny feet, With your button-brown eyes all aglow Marveling at yourself and looking more than sweet, The mischief already beginning to show. Curly-topped fellow with smiles all around, You dip and start across the room again. You, so proud of yourself and think you can clown. You fall, get up without whimper or sound, And start all over again. |
| FIRST STEPS |
| Dragon swoops to earth Breathing fiery red hot flames. Beating leather wings. He scorches all he surveys, Blistering all that is green. |
| TANKA |