Mary Shaw Poem Novels & Stories

He sat feeling uncomfortable, he wondered what Sarah was up to. "Ryan, Incase I die, do not weep by my grave." "How...like what do you mean?" He looked at her perplexed. "Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.

Lauren hits the road after he takes his seat, Mandy is seated beside him, she is his treasure hunt. Meanwhile, at Edward's Mansion, the silly Sharon had dressed gorgeous and headed downstairs to meet her date. Sharon is wearing a long grey, handless body hug dress with a slit at her right leg, reaching high up on her thigh, exposing the part she is not supposed to show. But who cares? She is the almighty Sharon, the girl who feels she is the most beautiful girl in the world, the one whose beauty always makes her do stupid things. She is beautifully adorned, as she walks down, Susan stares at her jewel, she takes after her, not her beauty but her selfishness.

Shama reached out to touch it, but it fluttered away, leaving behind a trail of shimmering sparks. Shama rose to her feet and chased after the firefly. As she stepped on the long grasses, a swarm of fireflies rose from the ground, like a magical cloud of light. Shama giggled with delight and ran through the field, twirling and dancing among the fireflies. She felt like a child again, filled with wonder and joy. Unbeknownst to her, someone watched her from the shadows, their heart pounding with a strange emotion. Shama, under the moonlight, amidst a thousand fireflies, appeared ethereal. Her laughter echoed through the night air, like music to the observer's ears.

Let’s take a walk by the sea-shore, Spend hours collecting the choicest pearls, Gaze at the starlit sky and try counting the stars; Meet in the streets, explore unknown lanes And find each other lost in one of those; Tell stories to each other, of the pauper and the hazel-eyed princess, And of all that add colour to life, But let’s not say: we are in love! Let’s weave millions of thoughts at leisure, Frame and reframe our lines a thousand times, Think that we’ll share those with each other in the next Spring

My pulse quickens, breath shallow, the weight of fear pressing against my ribs. I take a slow sip of water, the coolness grounding me again. Tonight was supposed to be about answers, about pulling threads together. Instead, it feels like a chaotic get‑together. Phantom’s absence presses against me like a shadow, and my ignored calls aren’t helping. “My name is Lambria,” Shaw’s girl says, speaking for the first time. “Wait. Lambria as in the missing werefox princess?” She nods. “Lambria saved my life,” Shaw admits.

He sat down on the couch, resting his head back, eyes closed. "How do you figure we storm Shadow Manor?" Marx asked. "They poisoned you. But what they used... we can't figure it out. I may be strong, but I am only one man. And Shea..." "Is only one woman." Shea came into the living area, balancing a thick, old book in one hand, holding a beer bottle by the neck in the other. Her closely cropped hair was a deep brown, her skin only two shades lighter. Built like an athlete, she was strong, fast, and merciless in a fight. If she hadn't turned up when she did, Marx would have been in a world of trouble. Sven had sent his most experienced men to hold him back from aiding Lochlan and Penny.

Shaun's face darkened, and he reposted “Shaw, what does that have to do with you?” Shaw waved his hand frantically, “there is no need for you to be upset, you have made a perfect arrangement, I won't be able to rival you in such a matter” Shaw's underlinings laughed at Shaun, Shaun's face was ashen “Shaw Wingman, warn your dogs” Shaun said coldly. Shaw chuckled, “so, they shouldn't smile or laugh?" He sneered.

She stood shivering, her arms wrapped around herself, looking from Liora to the vibrant garden behind her as if it were a mirage. “The song…” Mara whispered, her voice hoarse from disuse. “I heard… a song.” “You did,” Liora said, smiling. “We were singing. Would you like to hear another?” Mara took a hesitant step forward. Then another. She moved like a fawn, ready to bolt at any moment. She finally reached the boundary of their garden, stopping just at the edge of the dark soil. She stared at the green plants, the silver tips glowing softly in the afternoon light, as if she were seeing a ghost.

I reply. She looks slightly surprised. Then she says something that surprises me even more. “Early marriage?” It takes me a moment to understand what she means. “Sorry?” She asks again, “You look young to be their mother.” Now I am genuinely caught off guard. Somehow I manage to say, “I’m just their family friend.” Noticing my expression, Mr Shaw turns around and looks at the woman. His smile is still there, but the message is clear. You are overstepping, woman.

I regretted the very day our paths had crossed. A low groan escaped my throat as a sharp, throbbing pain radiated from my bruised stomach and shot down my aching arms. My throat felt completely parched, and the skin across my cheek stung fiercely. I cautiously tried to blink my eyes open, but the harsh glare of the overhead light caused a sharp pain behind my eyelids, forcing them shut once more. I instinctively tried to shift my body, but an unyielding pressure held me firmly in place.