volcano Archives - Spillwords

A Graveyard Full of Roses

Neeraj KumarApril 24, 2019

A Graveyard Full of Roses written by: Neeraj Kumar Boiling from the inside Smiling from the outside I find out I am Mad but Calm down S...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

A Lass From A Volcano Isle

Satis ShroffMarch 17, 2018

A Lass from a Volcano Isle written by: Satis Shroff @SatisShroff1 I come from a volcano isle on the Atlantic She said softly with smiling blue eyes....

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Io Sono Il Vesuvio

Maurizio RicciJuly 28, 2017

Io sono il Vesuvio poesia by: Maurizio Ricci @MaurizioRicciOF Io sono il Vesuvio l'anima incandescente per voi l'anima bollente per loro. Io sono ...

InternationalItalianPoetry1 min read

Eruption

Criss TrippSeptember 23, 2016

Eruption written by: Criss Tripp @CrissTripp Somber they found me, to be in need; Dormant and still, I was keenly perceived. I lay there in the col...

English4 min read

Volcán

Jose A GomezSeptember 1, 2015

Volcán Original Poem By José Gómez Cumbre tumultuosa explotando tu cimiento revientas tu rebeldósa lirio blanco y la rosa Piedra negra candor bota derr...

Jose A GomezSpanish1 min read

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Phyllis P. Colucci is a freelance/indie author from Brooklyn, New York. She is currently retired from a Supervisory Administrative position with a Federal law enforcement agency in New York City, and is now pursuing her passion for writing fiction and poetry. She has always had a love for writing over the years, whether it be poetry, short stories or novels; and mystery and suspense is something she has recently gravitated towards with a touch of romance and that "New York edge". Phyllis has three novels, one novella and an Anthology of original poems currently on the Amazon market, and continues to be part of the Spillwords writing community by sharing/contributing her fiction and poetry on a monthly basis. She also has a writing blog under the name of "FictionTarot" where she hopes to entertain readers, take them on journeys page by page - and perhaps make a difference with a blog.

Bodies In The Basement by M. Taggart

It was a crisp, damp, October night.
“When we get to the Church I’ll go down first.” Colin was thinking of the moment when both he and Aaron would be standing at the top of the basement stairs peering down into the darkness.
The old stone Church was perched at the top of the largest hill on the prep school’s campus. Colin’s parents were professors at the school and their house was on campus grounds. They’d been waiting for Colin’s parents to fall asleep upstairs. Both boys were comfortable in their sleeping bags on the screened in porch. The lights had been turned out an hour ago and Colin felt it was time to slip into the night ...