Harmony Kent
Harmony Kent began writing at 40 after a life-changing injury. An avid reader & writer, Harmony also offers reviews and supports her fellow authors.
You can find Harmony at https://harmonykent.co.uk
This is Home To Me
A first step into an empty house A blank canvas On which to paint The rest of my life * This is home to me.
Harmony KentPublished 14 days ago in Poets
At Home With Him
VOYAGE Into the unknown we go riding the ocean breeze tacking this way and that not too concerned with the far horizon
Harmony KentPublished 14 days ago in PoetsNo Place to Call Home
Little kid Squeezed in a narrow gap Between a hard wall and an ancient sofa Unobserved Hidden In a book … Outside the pages
Harmony KentPublished 14 days ago in Poets
A Stitch in Time
Imagine, if you will, a woman in her early thirties. She'd had a hard life, and despite the many travails and put-downs, she had not only survived but thrived. Slim, fit, and active, she had finally found peace and self-acceptance. After six months of enjoying her new-found freedom, the universe decided she could cope with more.
Harmony KentPublished 3 months ago in Motivation
Zeta: A New Dawn
‘Put yer gun down. Yer scarin’ ‘er.’ ‘Not half as much as she’s scaring me.’ Jimmy tried a different approach, ‘She’s just a kid.’
Harmony KentPublished 3 months ago in Fiction
Beacon in the Dark
Here I am again. Trapped in this nightmare of never-ending grief. No matter how many times this happens, I never know how I come to stand here in the cold emptiness. Despite the raging storm within, the park stands quiet and calm. Regardless, my rent soul fails to capture the peace offered. Though my heart beats, and my lungs fill and empty and fill, life trickles through my numb fingers like grains of sand. The snow shines pristine, virgin. The heavy silence holds. The entire world lies wrapped in a blanket of cold and desolation. Or is that just my hurting heart?
Harmony KentPublished 3 months ago in Fiction
Elysium
I'm no cat, but curiosity has killed me all the same. Danger and pollution surround our safe biodome, and I'm about to go outside. Not of my own free will. Sentenced to follow in the footsteps of my long-dead brother. Uselessly, every nerve in my body prepares me to run or fight … to do something. But if I so much as twitch, the all-seeing eyes will gun me down. I'd sooner take my chances out there.
Harmony KentPublished 3 months ago in Fiction
