aglow

I've met an angel of understanding 

that lights my path with love,

peace and 

pieces of me

gently given back

all aglow

~

Perfect

Perfect

Laughter
A kiss on my forehead
The touch of your hand brushing mine
Your smouldering gaze,
enough to make my knees weak ~ Love


All things described elsewhere
but felt in a heartbeat
and the embrace as you greet
me after too many days away.
Returned today


Lust
washes away any thoughts of tears,
any dreams or fears
of you not being here
to greet me at my hearth


Electric breezes
blow through yesterday
and melt those days away
Until all that is left
is a hot caress and promises deft.


You shall be mine,
as we entwine
nevermore to be parted
two souls reunited.
Perfect

Sunday

Those vibrations are back
they come from Sunday's chores
Sunday's hours
moments filled with
mundane,
purpose and
everything that a Sunday should be

Hurray for a Sunday
that gave me a piece of me
a piece of work done
and the allowance of love
to flow into the
universe

Today, I like Sundays

Only You

I have had this song on my head for two days now. You have to excuse me my indulgence, but I need to listen to it. How can you resist such sweet (sappy) lyrics like that? ahhh...

Can you hear me?
(I) want you near me.
its just the touch of your hand
behind a closed door
All I needed was the love you gave...
All I need for another day
All I ever knew
only you

 

bah dah 
ba da
ba da da da...


Feel free to continue on into your day now. ☻

A Spring Breeze

A warm wind kisses 
the crab apple tree
shaking off the winter-
pinched memories.


I smile in the sunshine,
loose hair in the breeze
An awakening of new days
that are sure to please.


Old friends return
to spruce up a nest
cooing in the morning,
as their name doth suggest


Tiny sprigs of newness
Little signs of life.
If I look hard enough
everywhere tis rife


Now behold, I spy a mirror
and in it, mine own eyes.
They sparkle with a mystery
Rebirth, I cry surprised!


Floating on a moon beam
Dancing through the dawn
I'm dreaming of a fresh start
Fie old devils, begone!


I wrap myself in lover's threads
sustained on potions sweet
This spring I find a lease on life
a gift from time to entreat.

Caught in a Stare

'tis Valentine's Day
and I should share some words
you all know by now
that I'm falling hopelessly (so absurd)
but with these feelings full
and time stuffed to match
I fear my writings are lean
and creativity gone through the hatch.
Alas and alack a'day
and I don't care
because this stranger's got a hold of me
caught tight in his stare
Ah, so sweet and now my story is up
Yes, I've prayed at Eros' feet and am happy in full worship 

♥♥♥

Happy Valentine's Day my friends!

cast-off

scent of your

heart  

lingers...

touches skin, mouth,

  soul

and I am alive 

fighting 

to flow among these

feelings that 

wash my 

fears

in 

balms of 

tender-

ness

so unaccustomed

to love, lust

and life

for

m-e

me

and I wrap

the arms of your 

cast-off shirt

tighter a-

round

shoulders

lest yesterday's 

burdens remember

forgotten tears

anew

♦

Saturday's Email of the Week: Hurry Love

Saturday's Email of the Week

 

Happy Saturday my friends. The week fairly flew by, it seemed. The blur is hard to even stop and put a finger on. There was a Holiday concert at school, which entailed a quick visit from Grandma and Grandpa for the show. I lounged at the salon, shopped till I dropped and made time for coffee with friends on more than one occasion. I might have got a little bit of work done, but it feels like it was despite myself. Who has time to work with a date at the museum, a visit from the window repair man and SNOW to appreciate! This weekend isn't going to slow down much either, as a Christmas tree hunting we shall go, followed by some hard-core decorating of our prize. Welcome to the hustle bustle of the holidays, I guess. How about taking 2 minutes for a chuckle before you throw yourself into the rest of your weekend? It just seems appropriate too, what with a few dates under my belt as of late. And NO, there is nothing to tell yet, but you will be the first to know, I'm sure. Cheers!

 

Leaving on a Jet Plane - The Musical

After yesterday's post, I just couldn't help but share this song. It reminds me of days gone by in a sweet melancholy way. No jet planes in my near future, but I can still dream of good days to come. I can still dream of arms around me, as I remember sweet kisses in your smile. 

sweet kiss

morning's bliss

forever a song

in my heart

~

The Morning After

Lazily I stretched and cracked my eyes open to the day. An unfamiliar room greeted me, but that wasn’t surprising considering I rested my head in a different spot most nights. A warmth in the bed beside me reminded me that today was different though. I was not alone. A twinge of apprehension filled me, as I peeked at my companion. Neale breathed heavily beside me. He was apparently still asleep. 

“Wasn’t this jumping the gun a little,” I wondered to myself. “Maybe I should just leave before an awkward moment steals in to disrupt this cozy atmosphere.”

With a pang of regret, I slowly eased my leg towards the edge of the bed. Just as I thought I was free, and beginning to wonder how I could go about quietly finding my things and leaving without waking my sleeping companion, a strong arm reached out and drew me back.  I was pulled into Neale’s warm body and a gentle kiss planted on my bare shoulder. Blissfully, I melted back into the bed. With a sigh, I cuddled into Neale’s chest and closed my eyes again.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning, “ I replied, as I opened my eyes to look into his brilliant green pools.

How could these joyful thoughts be a bad thing? I was the happiest that I had been in months. Neale’s generous grin filled my heart and more.

“Thinking of going somewhere, Beautiful?” he asked teasingly.

“Not anymore,” I said with a  smile. Not on your life. 

I was quite happy to stay like that forever. 

All Dressed Up - In a Smile

With the door closed again, I feared that my brain would be so a'goggle with thoughts of the stranger I had just met that sleep would elude me. It was direly needed though, and I surprisingly drifted off almost immediately. I needn't have feared forgetting him though, as when I woke a luxurious smile still lingered lazily across my face. My brain might have needed sleep, but it vividly remembered the image of my new friend  Neale. Oh sweet memories indeed. I stretched cat-like in my little cot, then jumped out of bed to hurriedly start my day.

Once upright, I glanced sadly through my backpack to see what I could wear. Everything had been worn almost threadbare. There wasn’t much there that could impress or hope to turn the eye of the South African lad, whom I had promised to meet that afternoon. There was nothing that could be done about it though, so I showered, then slipped into a gypsy skirt – the prettiest thing I had to offer. My hair hadn’t been cut in many months and any makeup I might have had at the beginning of my trip was long since gone. All I could do to gussy this time worn traveler up, was brush my hair and put on my sparkliest smile. That would have to do.

And you know? I think it was perfect!

I found Neale downstairs in the common area of the hostel waiting for me. While I hoped he hadn’t been waiting long, I also secretly hoped that he felt his wait would be worthwhile. We headed out into a bright afternoon and leisurely meandered through markets, side streets and wherever our feet took us. Conversation flowed between us, like we were long-lost friends. His sense of humour had me giggling like a school girl and his dazzling smile lit my cheeks with a natural blush that money just cannot buy. I forgot all about my tired appearance and fairly bubbled with life again. He seemed honest and truthful, and was a breath of fresh air after some of the conniving men that had tried to woo my hand in other ports. I was amazed by how comfortable I was in his presence and had no urge to leave it any time soon.

So when he asked if I was interested in stopping for a drink, I was more than happy to oblige. We ducked into a little local pool hall and ordered a pitcher of beer. Yes, I am not quite the purely angelic damsel and I do enjoy a cold pint or two. Neale seemed to approve my choice though and poured us some frosty libations with a flourish. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had felt so pretty and doted upon in such a sweet manner. Even before the alcohol started to have its effect, I knew that I was interested in spending more than just this afternoon with Neale.

While time would tell what our fortune would be, today we basked in flirtatious ways. Apparently it was obvious too, as when a young man stopped to chat for a moment, he introduced himself, then asked for Neale’s name. He then proceeded to ask Neale what his wife’s name was, and turned to me! Ha! A lovely thought, but we quickly explained that we had just met that day. He was surprised, but predicted that it would not be the only day that we would spend with one another. I secretly hoped he was right. The chemistry that flared between Neale and I was pretty heady. By the time we had played several games of pool with Nimesh, our new local friend, and tottered out of the bar many hours later, Neale and I were arm in arm. I was pretty happy to be there too. 

Welcome to Dream Land

I turned out the light and was asleep before I even hit my pillow. My two-hour siesta on the extended bus ride from Mombasa left me feeling more ogre than beauty queen, and I planned to sleep the day away to try and remedy that. It was nine o’clock in the morning, but I figured that  Dar es Salaam could wait. I was exhausted. I needed sleep now.

No sooner had my head touched down, then a knock roused me back to the land of the living.

 “Ugh,” I grumbled to myself. “No.”

I scrunched my eyes more firmly shut and whimpered, “Why!”

I needed sleep! I debated ignoring the knock. I figured that it was the good Samaritan that had saved my sanity and decency on the bus. He had just dropped me back at the hostel, with a  promise to return later. I feared that perhaps he was smitten though and wanted to make later more like sooner. That attitude wasn’t much of a repayment for all the niceties that he had shown me though. He had even bought me breakfast. I felt like an ingrate, shrinking away from his presence.

With a sigh I gave in, and went to the door just as a second knock cheerily tapped on the frame. I pulled the door open and stopped. The frown on my face melted instantly. As I stood there numbly, I gazed up into the smiling face of a red-haired giant. At 6’3”, this stranger immediately dazzled me with his beautiful, green/hazel eyes. His smile lit up his face, as he explained that he had seen my name on the register when he signed in. His thick South African accent charmed me back to fully awake, and I found myself shyly smiling back at this beautiful man. He wondered if I would be interested in a wander around Dar with him, to discover all that it had to offer. I don’t know if I can say that I was instantly in love, but damn I was close! A sleep-deprived, silly grin accompanied my assurance that I would love to step out on the town with him.

“Neale,” he said, as he  introduced himself with extended hand.

Yeah, I was pretty darn near in love right then. I would wander to the ends of the earth with him, but a little piece of my brain reminded me that I was sorely lacking in sleep and perhaps not able to make the best decisions right now. While I did know that I very much wanted to spend more time with this handsome specimen, I also knew that I really needed to sleep. My sentences fumbled and I gave in to my sleep-addled brain. I wasn’t going to let this temptation get away from me though. I promised that with a few hours of sleep, I would gladly poke through the deepest darkest corners that Dar had to offer.  He acquiesced with a nod and promised to come back in a few hours to wake me.

“See you soon Neale,” I waved sleepily to him. Sleep beckoned, but dream-land was now filled with visions of promise that I looked forward to in earnest. 

Matched Strides

Hand in hand

black and white strides

matched perfectly

stepping into the future

together; now

Fist against fist

black and white shots

struck against each other

in anger over

Yesterdays past

Colour barriers

hard fought and won

on a quiet side street

for them today

and tomorrow's dreams.

I smile

watching

them pass

linked

together.

*{}*

55 words

crafted into a semblance of a story

for the G-Man today

(yeah, its more poetry 

than anything, I know.

What of it?)

Love and Some Verses

 ~ while Iron and Wine say it best, I will add some of my own visions of love today ~

husband
You let me snuggle

icy toes resting on calves

and I sleep smiling

doves
sweet warmth underfoot

promises of tomorrow

future round and cool

ruffled feathers envelop

until doting mate takes o'er

children

laughing eyes light on

my stooped visage uncurling-  

run screeching to arms

held straight with a back born fresh

now with love's sweet compromise  

Together

Tall and strident

you lean into me as strength

I support our days

~

Mother and child
entwined from our shared roots bound
softly caressed love
~

lovers dipped in ink

choose shadows from their soul's heart

paint pictures as one

blood

Blood drips from aching 

heart that cannot see its pain

written on your face

A Christmas Toast

Over at One Stop Poetry today, there is a suggestion to write something to honour family at Christmas time. I started with a different thought, but this story of love and generousity was a part of my Christmas a few years ago. It took centre stage, so I let it have reign on my page. I share it to honour my husband and the love and respect that he elicited from all those he touched. Enjoy.

Christmas was upon me.
I could not smile or glee.
It had been mere months
since death had claimed thee.

I pushed myself to function.
I strained myself not to cry,
but my heart lie still in tatters
and I too wanted to die.

Your Co-workers refused to listen
when I tried to decline their cheer.
They insisted I join the revelry
and at their party must appear.

I had no choice, but compliance.
Wiped tears and donned false smiles.
Their hugs of joy were too worthy
for a girl far from love by miles.

We ate, drank and were merry.
Shared stories til speeches were nigh,
then sombre I grew, as attention they drew
to myself  ushered forth to their eyes.

Beautiful stories were issued.
Thoughtful memories were shared to enthrall,
then to my surprise a check materialized
in my name, for my family, from them all.

Speechless, I stood in front of them.
Mine eyes blinking back full disbelief.
How could they know how this touched me so
in my heart shattered still by so much grief.

Their pockets were emptied in your name.
Wealth was shared from men, coast to coast.
And here stood I, staring at nary a dry eye
Trembling as they called for a toast.

To Brad, was the shout from the tables.
To Brad, was  the feeling round the room.
My love, it was beauty at its finest
and their hearts were opened all just for you.

I shook as I raised glass in your name
Tears fell, uncheckered from my heart
They saw the special in you, that I also knew
Their gift, to give me a fresh start.

Your heart, I feel its presence
nearly every day.
Your heart, I know it beats
yet strong for me.

but on that blessed eve
your love's magic it did weave
and not alone was I that night
when I did leave.

    {}{}{}

Merry Christmas to all of you at One Stop
and all of you who have touched my heart over the years
You all help to keep me going & for that I am grateful. 
Blessings to you all.

Stranger

Stranger;
by Megan Hart
(© 2009 Spice)

This is exactly what it looks like my friends. Yes, this is the selection for my book club this month. I will give you one chance to guess the genre and if you cannot guess it, then perhaps you need to flip through some of the magazines that they have on the very top shelf of the magazine rack at variety stores. You know the ones; either covers are hidden or stickers are dotted all over the front cover to hide prying eyes before a purchase is made. Yup, this is along those kind of lines.

You might ask why we are reading a book that hearkens from the realms of Harlequin. Well, some of the members of my book club are wondering the same thing to be honest. Ha! We all agreed to read whatever is on the table though and this year we went with genres. One lucky lady selected Erotica and we all agreed, with a round of titters. When it came time to announce the selected book for our genre, Stranger was presented to us for our erotic pleasure. Some had questioned why not a classical approach, such as Lady Chatterly's Lover, Tropic of Cancer or perhaps something by the Marquis de Sade. Modern was the answer. So a modern look at erotica was perused this month compliments of Meagan Hart and her novel Stranger.

^^^

The story opens with the main character Grace entering a hotel lounge and settling into the bar for a drink. A description of her provocative attire leads one to assume that she is meeting someone for a date, or at the very least trying to meet someone for something of the kind. A lewd and pushy man tries to hustle her, until a tall, dark and very handsome man interrupts. He fashions himself her boyfriend to dissuade the first stranger to depart, then with him gone introduces himself. Before either of their drinks are done, they are headed upstairs for a night of wild and raucous sex. 

Now you might think that Grace is a bit of a tramp, but this is where the story tries to hook you. Grace is under the impression that the handsome stranger she "picked up" at the bar was a man that she had hired from an escort agency. She had already paid for his services and had requested a bit of kinky fun with the game of "having sex with a total stranger". Little did she know, that is exactly what she did. After wonderfully satisfying and over the moon sex, she freshens herself up and heads out the door, checking her voice mail as she goes. Only then does she get the message that her "real" date is wondering where she is and if their gig was cancelled. Well, she is mighty shocked, appalled, but even more titillated, but she doesn't have time to think about it as she heads out to pick up a body from the hospital. 

Oh, I haven't mentioned that yet? Yes, well, our dear Grace is a funeral director. She has just taken over the family business and is trying hard to impress her gruff father that can never be pleased. She has a male intern and female secretary (who have an affair, but is a pretty minor sub-plot that doesn't add anything to the story in my opinion) that work for her, but other than that she is fiercely independent. That of course is why she hires men for company, but more importantly, sex. She has no time for a relationship, but as the story unfolds, it is pointed out that she is afraid of commitment, loving someone,  and ultimately losing them. In her narrow world, all she sees is that everyone leaves you sometime. She forestalls the hurt caused by someone leaving her, by not letting anyone in to cause harm. Wonderful, except for the fact that she is dealing with the bereaved as a line of work. 

At this point the novel is more than a little flat on character development. Grace is a self-centred, narrow-minded individual that has no room for anything other than proving her father wrong, and of course sex. She supposedly is good at her job, but without truly caring about another individual, I don't see as how she could actually come across as believable to any kind of client. Her words would ring pretty false to a grieving soul's ears. I suppose that the story is trying to legitimize itself here though, so I will move on.

What else is in this book? Well, sex for the most part. Fine, except for I find it annoying how she has the best sex ever, every single time she has sex in the book. I am not saying that I am virginal, but I also wouldn't suggest that every time I have slid between the sheets with someone the moon and stars have realigned into a new constellation with my name on it. Jealousy on my behalf, I suppose, but I have to beg realism here. I don't mind the sex, but a little more titillation wouldn't hurt either. I suspect that I will not be alone in my questioning as to why the book did not appeal to my erotic imagination. That is not what this book was about though. The pictures were vividly painted and no imagination was required. 

Ah well, I did read it to the end and to be honest didn't mind it that much. Intellectual stimulation was not the main point, as the story was all about getting the motor running, if you will. Predictably, Grace gets together with her Stranger, loses her stranger, and then finds him again, as well as a dose of love thrown in for good measure. Any moral or ethical questions to be learned here? That is a stretch, but perhaps it is that while an individual's happiness is vital and important, allowing others into our lives to share the joys and sorrows makes for a much more enjoyable and worthwhile ride. 

An Ode to my Love

Perhaps it is the wine that tickles me,

but I envisage thee

and my heart swells.

My lips quiver with delight.

Ah, the words; what a plight!

The smile is all I can provide.

The sun leaves my view,

although it has barely touched you,

and I am a day closer to love.

A hug from your name,

No other is the same.

I ache with anticipation.

I must fill my glass

to make the night pass

and make my dreams a reality.

{}

Here is a taste 

of juvenile love's poetry;

A verse written

while I wandered Europe's backpacking trails

and my heart dreamed

of a lover missed

back home in Canada

Leaving the Light on

I sit in the silence of my own creation. 

for  this,

Today

I am grateful. 

I have peace in my little space.

My tears, a dear memory

held close to my heart.

They are a piece of my ever- following soul,

but they do not own me 

anymore.

 ~

Now,

tears of dismay 

flow heavy.

Too many shattered ghosts

treading through carefully crafted worlds

fallen apart

from false promises.

Lo, 

fine spirits spun out in flux 

on yesterday's prayers forgotten

~

I held love in my hand,

not perfect,

not always soft, kind or cuddly,

but steadfast and strong.

Is it so hard to believe

that my lumpen love

was the rarest golden ember

that others beseech,

reach for its flawed facets

when that ember speaks to all?

~

I hear the echo.

I see the waves that ripple 

through times turbulent

remember well my "enough?"

and feel

whimpering for those lost

that I cannot help

or point the way for,

but know

 that I will hold my light out to forever.

~

***

Swirling winds of separation

seem to be the norm in my friendship circle at present.

It makes me thoughtful and sad

for those walking that path of thorns

~loving thoughts sent to you all~