Driftwood

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This sand struck catastrophe

Where we wash ashore,

Ensnared in seaweed,

Lying, stricken, broken

Litter amongst this

Cornucopia of debris.

 

Disaster struck by cannon fire,

That ripped our home apart,

left us wrecked, torn from kin,

Salt water filling our hearts

 

So far from the lands we left,

Bargaining with the waves

For our meagre lives.

Our saviour an oar,

Cast aside in the chaos

For us to cling to,

As we were cast asunder.

 

Flames hit the gunpowder stores,

roaring as our world shattered,

Thunder and brimstone

Engulfed us with our enemy,

Two great wooden matriarchs,

Crimson winds hitting the sails,

Blew each other apart.

 

Quiet, now,

But for the lapping of the waves

As they approach and flee,

No seafarers sway,

Shore unsteady still.

 

We watch the sea,

It breathes

In rippling song,

Born of salt

And sea weed,

Blood torn by barnacles,

Washed away,

To mingle with the sands

Of beaches far

From home,

Under distant stars.

 

Image credit – Ludolf Bakhuizen, Dutch warships in trouble off Gibraltar, a real incident of 1690

 

I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

 

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

 

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

 

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

 

paypal.me/henrythorpe

 

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

 

I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

 

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

 

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

 

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

 

Starfall

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Starfall

Watch the stars as they fall

Into the sea,

As the night sky swallows

Each solitary light,

One by one,

Winking out, until

Eventually, we

Stand, truly alone,

Waiting, for the

Thing that took

The stars, to arrive.

 

 

Standing, shivering,

Staring, at the empty

Wasteland carpet of sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

Behind Streetlamps

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This one is a tribute to Neil Gaiman, it’s almost a Neverwhere inspired poem, really.

 

 

 

 

 

Behind Streetlamps

On the margins of the city streets,

They come when things are sleeping,

Together or apart, old and young,

Ageless and antique.

The folk that time forgot,

That somehow slipped out of the

World, into the shadows

That make this one,

With all the things that we forgot,

That rest here, behind the mirrors,

Past the doors that have been

Bricked up, Paths closed

to the folk who walk in daylight.

 

Things that could have been,

That almost were,

Were dreamed once .

A youth who came to be a star,

But fell to a mugger in an alley,

Fresh off the plane, so hopeful.

He died, but his dreams

Came here. So a little of

Him made it into the fabrics

Of the city behind the city.

It’s more than most get,

In the end..

 

 

He dances, sings and shouts,

This reflection of his dreams,

Unfulfilled there,  living here,

He dances in the shadows of

Street lamps,

Flickering in stuttering light.

 

 

 

 

Image from google images, Victorian Street | by Gareth Wray

————————————-

I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

paypal.me/henrythorpe

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

 

Pamphlets 

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Pamphlets 

Magic books are rare, useful ones even more so. They’re valuable, but also dangerous. The really powerful ones are kept under lock and key, they have a mind and power of their own. There are some that look like great and terrible grimoires, the necromancy or prophecy they contain within easy to see. Hey are gaudy by profession, nobody would trust a book of dark magic that wasn’t kept by skull-engraved obsidian, after all. 
 There are a few who do not like captivity. They know how to hide, until they are needed or until they require sustenance. They appear as normal, unassuming books, not anything at all suspicious. They will appear in public libraries, to whisk readers away on a grand adventure. They will return them, unscathed but shocked and battle-worn, to their own bodies when they are done. They let a reader live. Life within them and then when they are done they return them to their own time and bodies, though their mind retains the memory of this other life they loved within the magic of the book. 
 There’s a few which are genuinely dangerous. They can control, become you. If they so choose, there’s not much that can escape their clutches, once they decide on their prey. They live on the peripheries, only a few sheets of paper lodged within brightly coloured covers and bold text. Hey reach further than their compatriots, are more predatory. They find their way into your home, into protests, campus, bars and church. They work their way into every facet of life, multiplying themselves on human energy. They find their prey and they clutch into it, controlling it. They will find their prey, and it will never even notice they were there. 

————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx
 

Steps in the Frost

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Steps in the Frost

 

Where you walk the frost seems brighter,

A memory of spring to come,

Rather than herald of snow and chill,

The brusque winter air an excuse

To huddle tighter together,

In our greatcoats and scarves,

Until the warmth of our

Home’s fire takes us back

Within its comforting embrace.

 

 

There’s something in these nights

Days spent trudging through slush,

That bound us both together,

More than any ice-born hold

Could seek to sever. Alone, together..

 

 

 

This one is for my boyfriend, the ever wonderful Ben, but shhh don’t tell anyone i’m being soppy.

————————————-

I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

paypal.me/henrythorpe

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

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The Coven

In the moonlight, on the hill, 

Stand three women.

 One broad and helmeted,

Armoured chest and red dress,

Singing arias in the wind.

Though she flickers in and 

Out of view.

Another glints like iron,

Her face as sharp as knives

As starlight glistens on her skin

She smiles in cruel victory

Molten metal in her veins.

The last could be made of stone,

Her flesh changes as she moves

One second granite

Another marble

Then just too-pure human

Her smile is one of freedom

Though her eyes speak of pain

Not long covered by the dust.

Spirit, stone and iron

Unite to meet the moon

Hands grasped in circle

To summon magic in the dusk. 
They came to join their power

Give thanks and absolve crimes

To worship and call out

To sisters far and wide

Covens we’er the moon shines

Crying out in unison.
She came to each and every one,

The moon, in glittering form,

Witchfolk in the mountains,

Merfolk in the tides,

These three broken sisters

Who grasped each other tight.
To Valkyrie she gave a tune

To make mortal men dissolve

Weep at ethereal beauty

When they heard her songs.

Iron faerie looked at Moon

She knew her of old,

One thing she asked of her

To find her foe’s last hold.

Galatea smiled as wide

When moon came unto her

She whispered in the night

To know the names of husband’s ilk

And hunt them with the wolves.
Sisters came, sisters part,

To travel far again,

They gave their blessings to the moon.

As she faded with the dawn 

They grasped each other close

Soon parting, soon to follow dreams 

Bestowed upon their heads,

They looked each other in the eyes,

And prepared to exchange gifts.
The Valkyrie sparkled in the dawn,

Though she faded in the light,

She taught the two battle-hymns,

Sung of war, of death and spite,

That would cause men to fight ,

Die at their command,

If neccessity should strike

Ho-Jo-To she sang aloud

Music of carrion-flight.
Iron Faerie cnjured forth

Vines of sproutlings

From the ground

Instead of leaves and greenery

Metal sparked from roots to end 

She stroked them as they rose around her

Smiling sadly as she did, 

Then broke two branches with her hands

Giving one to each of them,

Silvery iron ivy sprigs

That would keep them safe and sound.
The stone-born lady sighed,

Took from her travel bags

A hammer and a chisel,

That changed form in the light,

As her own skin did,

Granite, Marble, flesh like,

Though as the day broke she

Became more human-like,

She gave Valkyrie the hammer,

Held her as she began to fade

The Iron one she gave the Chisel

To remind her

That in destruction

New things can still be made.
With that the three parted,

Sad smiles as each let go,

Valkyrie faded in the dawn,

Until only sparkles left,

Iron Faerie spoke a spell,

And walked out on faerie paths,

Galatea took her pack,

And with a last longing look,

Walked off into the woods.

This is dedicated to my dear friend and writing partner, the ever wonderful Izzy Jones, who is a warpaint wearing glitter throwing mess of fabulosity, and also an all round wonderful person. 
————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve aslso done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

The March of the Cats

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The March of the Cats

Paws thundered on the ground,

As they heard it,

This small army of kitten kind.

That echo from rooms

Away, as turning,

Sandra realised she

Had trodden on the cat bowl,

And sent it across the

Floor, clattering,

As a legion of tiny cats

Looked up at her 

With pleading eyes.


————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve aslso done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

The Philosopher

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The Philosopher



What, In particular reference to the canticle
of the moment,
is this precise
commentary
observing
within the melodramatic
interpretation of
causality within
the overarching narrative of the
conscious vilification
of narrative phenomena?



Vaguely, one must ascertain the nature of
the cartographic field
that the various aspects
are placed
within, or the practicalities
of the station or vehicle
that those observed
are held by,
particularly with reference to
anarchic themes
that influence
the field of knowledge itself,
especially considering Marxist
tendencies to over-rule
the problematic question of gender-roles
within the piece.

 



….
It’s a flower?
I just thought
it would be a nice surprise!

 

 

 

 

This is another of my christmas present poem/story series, this for my rather strange housemate Molly Griffith-Jones, who never fails to surprise us with her ability to relax in strange positions.

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I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

paypal.me/henrythorpe

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

I’ve aslso done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

 

The Dwarf

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The Dwarf

– This is a dwarven drinking tale, of the Fantasy Dwarven variety, featuring characters from childhood stories created with my Brother. Svorfal “Snowball”, Imlik Ironballes, Deica “Duck” Bor, Inu “Icicle”, Deps and Company will probably pop up in more stories that I publish,  though for now this  is a “Dwarven drinking tale”, as our heroes escape their now adult children’s return home by running straight for the pub. It was written as one of my Christmas poems and stories series, this one as a present for my brother Douglas, who is alright, as abnoxious little* brothers go, most of the time. He’s also quite good at art or something. 
*little here being relative to age, he’s been taller than me since we were about 10 and 8, respectively. 

“I don’t know why they named the pub this, Svorf, it’s run by your brother isn’t it?” One of the jolly looking dwarves grinned, swigging at his ale “still, good bee..r..”

 “ He says it’s for the humans, makes them come spend more money…” Svorf mumbled through his beer froth “ or something like that.. Not that Ice ever comes upstairs to see the punters anyway – he’s just happy he gets to stay downstairs and sleep and no-one bothers him”

 
 “When was the last time you saw him?” shouted the first Dwarf, Imlik by name, Ironballs by title, at the bartender, a giant orc with a purple tinge to his skin who seemed to be drinking more of the ale than he was serving.

 
 “He was up here the other *hic* day, I *hic* think?” The orc grinned in a way that expanded his face sideways with its intensity “You wait, I look. Watch the *hic* bar.. Errrm.. gentle*hic* tiny *hic* men”” With that he dashed his tankard onto the bar, spilling it everywhere, and launched himself into a hitherto unseen cellar hatch. 

 “This, my friend, is our time!” Svorfal, whose brother did in fact own the pub, cried in triumph as the massive orc squeezed himself through the cellar hatch. “The bar is ours! For about.. Ten minutes!”

With this, he leapt and careened into a flying barrell roll unbelievable for one of his short stout build through the air to behind the bar, and began serving frothy steins so quickly to the patrons that it was impossible to follow with the eyes. 

 He called to his friend, to ask why he was not joining him behind the bar, and realised with shock that in place of his friends wide grin, there was a familiar set of angry, piercing green eyes, which in turn were set into a deep yellow braid, which in turn was attached to a furious looking dwarven woman who was somehow lifting his friend up by his ear, just off the floor. His friend grinned nervously but didn’t move much, slowly sneaking his flagon around her, towards his mouth. Svorfal froze . well, his face and beard did, his hands kept pulling pints and thrusting them out towards the excited patrons. “Deica!?! How.. Nice? To see you!” Svorfal grinned at his friend’s wife, finally, though perhaps a little nervously. 

 
 “Svorfal.” The dwarf woman had a way of pronouncing full stops that made both of the hardened dwarf adventurers shudder. They’d spent years fighting alongside her, after all. “Why. would you like to tell me. Are you and my husband here not at home” 

She dropped Imlik, and he collapsed on the floor, swigging his ale happily. He grinned up at her, trying to affect drunken innocence “Wife, dearest,” he struggled, managing to somehow find himself a new beer as Svorfal surreptitiously slid one across the bar floor for him. “We *would* have invited you along! But you were.. Sleeping! And my dear friend Svorf here needed some .. advice! Also, Penga has the kids over so he needed to go for a walk!” He nodded sagely, as if he had just completed a great philosophical treatise. 
 

Deica grinned, stretching and knocking Imlik’s drink all over him, though he did manage to salvage enough for that,most important, last drop. ”Ours just arrived my love,” She ruffled his beard with a laugh that was equal parts amused and slightly terrifying, grabbing her husband and pulling him up with her, as she bellowed “MORE ALE! BARKEEP!”

 With that, Svorf drew two steins and threw them deftly – Deica caught them without spilling any, clapping her husband on the back as she passed him a drink. The bar shouted a great cheer, and started singing one of the old dwarven hits (probably something about gold, Nobody knew the words anyway so it was a bit of a group loud happy mumble). Someone produced an accordion from some hidden stash, they sneak in, there’s always one hidden somewhere. An elf in the corner brought out a hitherto unseen harp, and began strumming it quietly in the corner. Things in the city got a bit strange, sometimes.

 This reverie was interrupted when the dwarf behind the bar, who had not realised he was standing directly on the cellar hatch, was catapulted across the bar again. He managed to roll into another perfect somersault, and cannon-balled directly into Imlik and Deica. The three stood up, covered in ale, as the Orc Grinned, “He sleeping – anyone need another drink?”
.

————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve aslso done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

The Hungry Dragon 

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The Hungry Dragon

Deep, in the dark, there’s a dragon,

He left the world a while ago,

Too many men with sharp things,

Chasing the beasts away,

Burning down the forests,

To make way for their

Wood and stone

Abhorrences against nature,

Defended with steel, fire and bone.

 

No, that world was not for dragon-kind,

Not anymore, it had changed,

These new men had ruined the earth,

Hunted his people,

Ransacked his halls,

Clipped his wings,

So the hills lie empty .

So he hides, living on cave dust,

Talons clutching his greatest treasure,

All he had left of his mate,

Scales of glittering gold,

Final burning breath of his people,

An egg now solid stone.

 

He waits for the world to become home again,

Slumbering with fiery groans.

The Villagers tell stories

Of the flame under the mountain,

As he snores the ages away.

 

 

This is another of my Christmas poem series, written for the wonderful Cat Bradbeer, who is a wonderful creature and an excellent maker of yummy things and fan of doggos with silly faces.

 

————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx