The Beginning and The End, by Heather Moss

First she left us for the rolling fields of York, today she’s off to University. Before she went, she left Marriotts one last literary gem. We’re wishing Heather all the best and look forward to lots of uni and creative writing updates.     It’s a little like falling And a little like floating One moment…

The Sunset Searcher

There once was a man who watched sunsets hoping one day to be blessed with perfection. He wandered far and wide. From windy hilltops to wild moors. He would sit and watch, marvel at the breathtaking blues darkening to purples and rose pinks bleeding into regal reds. Ever watching. Ever waiting. He dedicated years to…

The People of Light by Nathan Zelli

Nelson Mandela, Known as a light, A light of freedom. Florence Nightingale, She was a light, A lamp, The lady of the lamp. Martin Luther King, The light of hope, The light at the end of segregation, The light of dreams. Rosa Parks, The light at the end of an era, The segregation end light,…

Write What You Read

Seems obvious doesn’t it? All art begins with a form of imitation: at the most basic level, artists are always recreating something. The history of literature is rooted in stories; the telling and retelling resulting in reinvention and reimagining. Over the next few weeks, look out for posts and links to The Open University’s writing…

Green

I will paint my wall green, Because envy paints feelings, Because emeralds pain gemstones, Because green will paint a football pitch, Because boas will constrict, Because it will make it feel like home. By Genie Seymour-Griffiths   Green is like grass, Just like a football, Soccer field where you can score glorious goals, Where the…