Short Stories

A Community EffortA Narrow EscapeA Precious CommodityA Rare GemA Statesman UnsurpassedA Strange Family AffairA Wasted LifeA Worthwhile VentureAll For Just A MangoAn AccidentAn Interesting RelationshipAnansi and AlligatorAnansi and Fish CountryAnansi and the Banana TreeAnansi and the NettlesAnansi and the Old HagAnansi and the Phantom FoodAnansi and the PlantainsAnansi and TurtleAnansi in LoveAnansi, Firefly and TigerBack To SchoolBra Tookoma and the Gum TreeCherry Tree IslandCrime Doesn’t PayFantailFinders Keepers Losers WeepersFriday 13th, One Day LateHow Anansi Came to Own All TalesHow Anansi Lost His HairHow Stories Came to EarthI Am A TeacherIn For A Big DisappointmentIn For A DisappointmentMagic AnansiMischievous PinkyMr Buffu and the SnakeMr. Payne, The Bread WinnerOutsmartedPlight of A War VeteranPraedial LarcenyPride Goes Before A FallPunished UnfairlySports Day In Queen’s ParkThe Art CompetitionThe Emperor's New ClothesThe Happy FamilyThe Independence Bik-a-thonThe Lament of A Toothless WomanThe Landing of The ConcordeThe Leap-FrogThe Little Match GirlThe Naughty BoyThe Real PrincessThe Red ShoesThe ShadowThe Ugly DuckingThings Are Not Always What They SeemThis Is Our LifeTop Of The ClassWater, The Real Winner

Poems

A bird came down the walkA light exists in springA little road not made of manA long, long sleep, a famous sleepA narrow fellow in the grassA shady friend for torrid daysA thought went up my mind to-dayAmple make this bed.Annabel LeeBefore you thought of spring,Death sets a thing significantDelight becomes pictorialEach life converges to some centreFor each ecstatic instantGod gave a loaf to every birdGod made a little gentian;God permit industrious angelsGoing to him!Good night! which put the candle out?He fumbles at your spiritHeaven is what I cannot reachHer final summer was it,Hope is the thing with feathersI felt a funeral in my brain,I Found Her Out ThereI found the phrase to every thoughtI had no time to hate, becauseI heard a fly buzz when I died;I held a jewel in my fingersI like to see it lap the milesI lived on dread; to those who knowI lived on dread; to those who knowI measure every grief I meetIf you were coming in the fallI'm nobody! Who are you?Inaugural PoemIt is an honorable thought,It was not death, for I stood upLike trains of cars on tracks of plushMe! Come! My dazzled faceMe! Come! My dazzled faceOde to JoyThe Darkling ThrushThe SubalternsThe VoiceThe was a Young Lady of ButeThere was a Young Lady of ClareThere was a Young Lady of HullThere was a Young Lady of LuccaThere was a Young Lady of NorwayThere was a Young Lady of Parma,There was a Young Lady of RydeThere was a Young Lady of TroyThere was a Young Lady of TyreThere was a Young Lady whose chin,There was a Young Lady whose noseThere was an Old Lady of ChertseyThere was an Old Lady whose follyThere was an Old Man in a boatThere was an Old Man of ApuliaThere was an Old Man of Cape HornThere was an Old Man of KilkennyThere was an Old Man of Moldavia,There was an Old Man of NepaulThere was an Old Man of PeruThere was an Old Man of the CapeThere was an Old Man of the coastThere was an Old Man of the DeeThere was an Old Man of ViennaThere was an Old Man on a hill,There was an Old Man who saidThere was an Old Man who supposedThere was an Old Man with a beardThere was an Old Man with a owlThere was an Old Man with a pokerThere was an Old Person of Berlin,There was an Old Person of BudaThere was an Old Person of Burton,There was an Old Person of ChesterThere was an Old Person of CromerThere was an Old Person of DoverThere was an Old Person of DuttonThere was an Old Person of EwellThere was an Old Person of PragueThere was an Old Person of Rhodes