Daisy prefers to share herself in the third person, because she feels safer that way. She is generally a very shy and anti-social person, who can fool you into thinking she is confident and friendly when she has to. She's not, really. She suffers from severe depression and anxiety, and when she's got the brain power, she wishes she didn't.She does love her friends, and being in their company, but she prefers to wander in solitude through both desolate, lonely places, and those twinkling with fairy dust, sparkling lights, and sweeties. She loves giggling and silliness, and one of her favourite phrases is that there should be "More Joy in the World". She regularly attempts to make this happen by being silly and then going to her Favouritest Place in All The Land - bed.
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The sun does not set on This face of mine, Nor soar on wings of fire to me, Nor rush to greet me, Kiss me, leave me, Nor burn and scorch the skin from me. It is I who moves away Withdrawn From light and life All blazing bright and Cloistered in My rising run, The weight of spirit Left behind. In darkness seeps the weeping soul, The river dry yet Flowing slow, Still, from diamond drops I...
Added 10 Aug 2016 | Category Poetry
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This musing only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen. Sometimes I feel that the world is a graceless place. Well, alright, I always feel that. For me, every day is a task that I cannot look forward to. But there is no way to rearrange my knickers drawer in procrastination of meeting the morning (or afternoon, on my days off), and I am lacking...
Added 19 Aug 2013 | Category Musings
| Votes 17 | Avg Score 4.71
| Views 1,111
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This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen. Face in the shadows Where eyes burn black candles And wax in the water Has armoured the lips, A soul freezes hell With the loneliness cruel, And the silence is lost Where the knife of noise slips. The buzz and the hum Of the jostling friends Who are not friends in truth, Nor are saviours of...
Added 13 Apr 2016 | Category Poetry
| Votes 16 | Avg Score 4.94
| Views 314
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Here tears reign, And Self cannot be pulled together When Self is screaming, torn asunder, Where empty shell is welling up whilst Eyes of others roll Against the failings of this Selfish child, So called because She cannot rule what Others hide and stow away. 'Midst the back streets of her mind, Her common sense is raging cruel To lash her weakness, Scorn self-pity And loathe the drama...
Added 04 Jan 2015 | Category Poetry
| Votes 11 | Avg Score 5
| Views 1,128
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Once upon a time, there was a little fat fairy. She was a short, squat, roly-poly puddin’ and pie fairy, with a little brown mop of hair, a rounded potato nose, a wobbly tummy, and fat little arms and legs that made her look like a Dandelion Clock with tapered limbs. (It must be pointed out here that the Dandelion Clocks always took exception to that description, as they were much more...
Added 30 Apr 2012 | Category Childrens
| Votes 13 | Avg Score 5
| Views 2,047
| 10 Comments
This story only available on Stories Space Once upon time, in the land of Bakeryboo, there was a little town called Puddington. At the northern end of Puddington, was Apple Tart Lane. And at the end of Apple Tart Lane, was a little house called Plum Pudding Cottage. And in Plum Pudding Cottage, lived the Doughball family. Mr. Doughball was a mince pie. He had lovely, soft pastry, a...
Added 12 Aug 2012 | Category Childrens
| Votes 15 | Avg Score 4.93
| Views 1,354
| 11 Comments
This story only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen. Once upon a time, there was a little Christmas fairy. She was a beautiful little Christmas fairy! Her lips were as pink as sugar mice, and her eyes were holly-green, like the holly sprig she wore. Her curly hair was a mane of spun gold, and her wings shimmered liked feathered frost. Her dress had...
Added 07 Nov 2013 | Category Childrens
| Votes 10 | Avg Score 4.9
| Views 1,236
| 8 Comments
The fiercest heat of blazing sun has finally stretched its arms And yawned its way towards the stairs embraced in cooling balms Of fresh-breathed northern winds that chase the southern cloying heat Away from Summer's laughing face and happy, dancing feet. September heralds in great joys for such a one as I; September calls my heart to gaze upon the darkening sky. Summer pulls itself away...
Added 20 Sep 2012 | Category Poetry
| Votes 7 | Avg Score 5
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This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen. So bright the birch leaves on my lawn, So soft their drift in weak sun's blaze; A spark of flame on Autumn's breath, Now damping down with faerie glaze. I scuff my boots through pixie tracks (The little gits keep sneaking through My lovely lawn, all dew-bejewelled; I wish they wouldn't, but...
Added 25 Oct 2013 | Category Poetry
| Votes 4 | Avg Score 5
| Views 553
| 4 Comments
I wished I was a flower underneath a great big tree, But then a dog would come along and shower me with wee. I wished I was a chestnut tree with lots of lovely conkers, But kids would come and nick my nuts and that would drive me bonkers. So I wished I was a schoolie living in the ocean seas, But a fisherman would catch me and then cook me with some peas. So I wished I was a beer that was...
Added 07 May 2012 | Category Poetry
| Votes 10 | Avg Score 5
| Views 813
| 11 Comments
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