graham jenkinson

poem by graham jenkinson

I need nobody, I need nothing l have been dead so very long There is nothing left but the search The centuries of looking keep me strong I have been looking for you forever For centuries I have searched for you Nothing else,... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

When I awoke deep underground Silence was the only sound I start to scream in desperate fear Yet I was the only one to hear Trapped inside a box of wood Through my veins ran living blood In total blackness I could not see... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

Next time you walk at night by the sea Have a look in see a reflection of me The inky black water is where I hide Just waiting for you in the evening tide Next time you are walking in the cold dark night Stare beyond the da... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

Sitting in the pharmacy looking at the pills Some to cure a headache Some to cure your chills On a stand are hanging multicoloured nail files Next to the preparation H To help you with your piles Pills to help go on a... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

In the Darkness He follows me along the dark streets of my mind I hear his footsteps following closely behind He plays with my thoughts and lives in my dreams He is the quiet voice that calls out to me Whispering in my ear t... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

Does a lungfish really breathe Does an archer fish hold a bow Does an arrow fish have a quiver Can a Blow fish really blow Can a banjo fish play a rhythm Does a Bombay duck have a bill Does a bearded fish have a goatee ... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

There was Sorcerer Called Edward He Lived in A Hole in the Ground Covered With Twigs and Bracken With Spiders were all Around The Spiders Webs Were Everywhere The Spiders Were Free to Roam Edward Liked Them Being There In the ... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

Does a moon fish light the sea at night Does a sun fish shine all day Is a clown fish really so funny Does a monk fish really pray Does a trigger fish hold a handgun does a basking shark bask all the day Will a horseshoe cra... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

Was beach wet Because the Seaweed Can a Razor Clam Give you a Shave Are Those Really White Horses At the Crest OF Every Wave Can a Fiddler Crab Play a Fiddle Does a Hermit Crab Live Alone Is the Wind on the Shore Miserab... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

I am Strigoi Vii the one who lives forever Bowing in reverence to the Strigoi Morte Those who have passed before me into death I shall not taste death I will not be caught I am the ruler of my dreams I will never die When ... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

There was a gentle breeze as the rain poured down There was the roar of the ocean filling my senses Waves crashing on the shore over and over again Each wave rising higher and higher in salty spume As I looked I could see bey... Read more

poem by graham jenkinson

There was going to be a ghost hunt tonight In scaringham castle at the edge of the wood A very famous television medium would be there The advert promised that it would be good The sign outside stated "Ghost hunt" H... Read more

story by graham jenkinson

It was the year 1899 the date was the 29th of October and I was 28 years old, my name is George Edward Greene and this is my story. I found myself in the old fishing port of Whitby which is situated on the North Eastern coast of En... Read more

story by graham jenkinson

A group of friends and I had always been interested in the paranormal and had attended several " ghost hunts " which had been arranged by some of the countries leading paranormal groups who charged quite a lot of money for the pleas... Read more

story by graham jenkinson

I was setting out on a journey which was shrouded with sadness, it was the thirty first of October in the year nineteen fifty seven and I was going in search of some answers surrounding the death of my dear friend Abigail who had re... Read more

story by graham jenkinson

The Brontes An icy cold wind swirled across the bleak and barren moorland above the village of Haworth, making a sound like a noose tightening and stretching the rope on a scaffold. The night was black; the clouds were rolling in and... Read more