Articles written by Dawayne Spires

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About me - Dawayne Spires

I am an outdoor sportsman. I love to write about the wonders of God's wonderous world through my short stories and editorials on the conservation of our natural resources and the preservation of our rich hunting heritege. I am a member of the Georgia Outdoor

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Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Children's stories: 2 of 396
Three Boys and a Bass Tommy Goodloe and Eddie Spriggs sat on the bikes in front of the Cool Springs Baptist church waiting on Arlo Murphy to get there. Summer was nearly over. The seventh grade awaited the boys when school started back. The great adventure that they had expected to have this summer had never materialized. It... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Best love poems: 42 of 568
A Gift for YouI have a gift for you,It has been said it must be earned,Yet I give it without reserve,Its true meaning from you I learned,It is something that you do deserve,A thing that not many collect, I gift to you my utmost respect.I have a gift for you,It is a promise of that defines a man,A thing that is often broken,It... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Cheating: 49 of 169
Shadows on the WallThe flickering candles cast shadows on the wallAs two become one then two again,No words are spoken in their urgent call,Seeking a place for release to begin.The room is filled with the smell of sex,Touched lightly with the candle's scent,The sounds of orgasmic muscles flex,The feel of climactic energy spen... More..
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Christmas: 26 of 79
Friends and Memories A lone man sits in a patchwork lawn chair in front of a meager campfire. He stands and tosses another stick or two on the fire. The flickering amber light casts his shadow upon a well-used but empty one room shack. The words, "Old Farm Hunting Club", are clumsily printed in white paint on a shingle that h... More..
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Woman of my dreams: 26 of 63
Borrowed Memories and Sugar Biscuit DreamsThe sun sets across the bow of a sailboat,Magenta and orange sky kisses the suddenly still emerald sea,A white flower of tropical originHolds her sun tinted blonde hair behind her ear,Her lips taste of sweet white wine,Her skin shows the affects of the Key West sunshine,I have never b... More..
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Outdoor living: 1 of 2
When Nature CallsBy DaWayne Spires If you are an outdoors person of any sort, sooner or later, the need to answer nature's call while enjoying outdoor activities will have to be addressed. Being an avid hunter, I have had to address this situation on a regular basis. One would think that such a natural act would be easily han... More..
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Christmas tales: 32 of 59
Friends And Memories A lone man sits in a patchwork lawn chair in front of a meager campfire. He stands and tosses another stick or two on the fire. The flickering amber light casts his shadow upon a well-used but empty one room shack. The words, "Old Farm Hunting Club", are clumsily printed in white paint on a shingle that h... More..
Sports & Recreation > Hunting Hunting tips: How to reduce or hide your scent: 4 of 7
Nullo Controlling body odor is the greatest challenge a deer hunter faces. With every trip they make to the deer woods, with every step they make, with every breath they take, their body odor shouts, "I'm here! I'm here!" Let me tell you, deer hear very well with their noses. When Steinbeck wrote, "The best laid plans of mice... More..
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: For children: 162 of 223
Three Boys and The Wog's Treasure "How far is this secret place of yours back in here," asked Arlo Murphy as he huffed and puffed all the while trying to keep up with his buddies Tommy Goodloe and Eddie Spriggs. "Just a ways more," answered Tommy as he led the way back through the heavy brush and briars. "I hope so," added Ed... More..
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Nature: 29 of 35
Questions I walked barefoot on the beach just moments before dawn with the wet sand scrunching up between my toes. I heard the stars say their last farewells as the sun touched the horizon with magenta, orange, and blue. The tapestry of the coming day had begun to be woven before me as I began to realize that I lack the abili... More..