Nephylim

Hun I know I am being a bad reviewer. Things are pretty crazy here at the moment with my daughters moving in and other stuff happening. Maybe we should put things on hold for a couple of weeks as it seems everyone else is busy too. I suppose this is a busy time of year with everyone either on holiday or covering for other people who are on holiday. Perhaps we can put August's list back to September. I don't want to scrap them altogether because I know of and really like some of the stories. I will definately come back and comment on this one at some point because I think the story is definitely worth comment. It is my favourite ricky story and I just love its premise and the way it has progressed. Will be back later

Hey there hun. Like everyone has said before this place is awesome. It was so welcoming to an insane Welsh woman with a big mouth and I so quickly felt part of the family. I am sure that you will be asorbed in the same way.

If we're talkng real people rather than fictional characters then my real wet dream is a Nicole Kidman/Jonny Depp sandwich... with me as the filling of course

I was worried for a moment.... I have a friend who's a furry and he is totally hot so I would support my answers above. No I haven't but hell yeah I would.

YAY... you're crushing on me twice because I LOVE PINEAPPLES :)

Yeah right.

:wub: How could anyone not love you?

You wait until you get to know some of the guys and then say that

Awww cute. I like purple hair. Mine was purple once Nice attitude going on there

I love that song. I love Lily Allen and those rules made me snort my coffee... Result

That would have been my third faourite if I hadn't thought three was greedy

Too many

I haven't seen that one before. Thank you for sharing, it's awesome. If you like The Raven there is a group called Omnia who have done a musical version. It might sound like a strange thing to do but it really works. It sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it

I have lots of favourite poems but my two absolute favourites are The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore! AND the two part poem INTRODUCTION Hear the voice of the Bard, Who present, past, and future, sees; Whose ears have heard The Holy Word That walked among the ancient trees; Calling the lapsed soul, And weeping in the evening dew; That might control The starry pole, And fallen, fallen light renew! 'O Earth, O Earth, return! Arise from out the dewy grass! Night is worn, And the morn Rises from the slumbrous mass. 'Turn away no more; Why wilt thou turn away? The starry floor, The watery shore, Is given thee till the break of day.' and EARTH'S ANSWER Earth raised up her head From the darkness dread and drear, Her light fled, Stony, dread, And her locks covered with grey despair. 'Prisoned on watery shore, Starry jealousy does keep my den Cold and hoar; Weeping o'er, I hear the father of the ancient men. 'Selfish father of men! Cruel, jealous, selfish fear! Can delight, Chained in night, The virgins of youth and morning bear. 'Does spring hide its joy, When buds and blossoms grow? Does the sower Sow by night, Or the ploughman in darkness plough? 'Break this heavy chain, That does freeze my bones around! Selfish, vain, Eternal bane, That free love with bondage bound.' BY WILLIAM BLAKE

It's never been just one streak, it just looks that way from the front. It's very different now. It's just like the picture of Silver on my profile only where his is red mine is turquoise. Don't bring me into this. Not that I wouldn't love to suck... er eat Chase.

That was inspirational. Thank you

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Have a great one.

Generally when an idea comes to me it is a complete vision. I am posessed by it and can't help but write it. That's fine but if I'm working on something else at the time then that gets shoved aside for the new one. Then I go back to the first one, read through it from the start and get the blast of what comes next. That is, of course, unless another new one is unleashed on me.

That was a truly heartbreaking story that ended beautifully. I stil think you should post it in eficton so more people will have a chance to read it. It's a fantastic story very well written with an awesome message at the end.

Ummmm... green eyes????? Pat's got the most shockingly beautiful blue eyes I have EVER seen.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING!!!! Have a FANTASTIC Day

I suppose I have three 'circles'... those I woud do anything for without a single thought.... those I woud do anything I could for if after having thought about it for a few minutes... those I don't know.

Meh

He is softly spoken and oh yes... definitely and most certainly an old soul... a very old soul that let's say that this is not the first time we have been close

A day which is good and bad is not a mediocre day. A day which is neither good nor bad is a mediocre day.