Tag: Richard Turton

The Eagle Cried

I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer, and Vietnam Vet, Richard Turton. The Eagle Cried The acrid smell of cordite Still hovered in the air. No breeze to wash away The scent of Satan’s hair. The Medivac’s are fading… Continue Reading “The Eagle Cried”

Tangled Tales – Now Over 200 Short Stories

Short Stories from Vampire Maman A good portion of the posts on Vampiremaman.com read like short stories, but the list here is of stand alone stories that don’t necessarily follow the tales of Juliette’s life with her husband, kids and assorted Vampire Mom adventures.… Continue Reading “Tangled Tales – Now Over 200 Short Stories”

The Eagle Cried

I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer Richard Turton.   The Eagle Cried   The acrid smell of cordite Still hovered in the air. No breeze to wash away The scent of Satan’s hair.   The Medivac’s are fading… Continue Reading “The Eagle Cried”

Short Story Sunday: The Last Time

The Last Time by Richard Turton   I have no recollection of anything specific we spoke of that day. I’m sure the weather was involved because we always spoke of the weather in Georgia. He gave me words of advice, I’m sure, because that’s… Continue Reading “Short Story Sunday: The Last Time”

The Eagle Cried

I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer Richard Turton.   The Eagle Cried   The acrid smell of cordite Still hovered in the air. No breeze to wash away The scent of Satan’s hair.   The Medivac’s are fading… Continue Reading “The Eagle Cried”

In that hour before sunrise…

It is dark and quiet in the hour before sunrise. The only sound other than my computer keys is the sound of a cat playing with a twist tie. How can a creature have so much fun with a twist tie? And the real… Continue Reading “In that hour before sunrise…”

The Eagle Cried

I’m honored to share a poem from my friend, Northern California writer Richard Turton. The Eagle Cried   The acrid smell of cordite Still hovered in the air. No breeze to wash away The scent of Satan’s hair.   The Medivac’s are fading now,… Continue Reading “The Eagle Cried”

%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this: