Drawing her close into my body I feel the warmth of her body as it presses against mine. Looking up at me with the hint of a smile on her lips, her eyes sparkle as they draw me in. Wrapping her up in my arms I pull her tight to me feeling the rise and fall of her breast against my chest. Lost in the depth of the most beautiful eyes in the world my lips are drawn to hers as I gingerly take a taste of her sweet lips. Ever so gently our lips caress each other drawing me deeper into her presences as our hands pull use closer together. For a moment I am lost within her soul and filled with an overwhelming need while at the same time completely fulfilled. As she pulls away from the embrace of our lips, I stare into the depth of her eyes seeing hint of more to come and a hint of playfulness as I’m drawn deeper into her eyes. The Demented One
Well it is later, I guess. So here is another short piece I have written. Empty Spaces Warm spring air fills the sense with fresh scent of life as the world is washed in blues and greens. Empty spaces. Crisp fall air clears the mind while the world is painted bright red and orange. Empty spaces. A playful smile flirts across her face as the heavenly scent of perfume fills your being. Empty spaces Laughter fills the air as friends gather around. Empty spaces In the empty spaces the lonely heart slowly dies. The Demented One
What about another? I wrote this many years ago. Who am I? Who am I? Who am I to be sad? Who was he to me? He was not my father, but he was there when I lost mine. He was my mentor, my teacher, and my friend. He was there to lend a hand. We didn't talk much and I would curse his name, but he was there. Who am I? Who am I to be sad? He was not my father, I not his son, nor his mother or spouse. What right do I have to be sad? No one saw me cry.
Between Golden reflections of pale moonlight accentuate the silky smooth skin. Shimmering waves of ebony hair cascade down, enhancing the depth of the eyes as the beauty of the soul shines forth from within. Gentle words spoken in the soft moonlight. As the unspoken ones between fill the heart with emptiness.
If you do I would love to see some of your work. Just for the record in these things I have posted here dwells in a lot of living mixed with a bit of hurt.
The Journey to the soul I have sat with my back against a palm tree watching the waves crash down upon the white sandy beaches of the Pacific. I have sought shelter beneath that oak while the rain cleansed the earth, the air and my soul. I have gazed out upon the dazzling brilliance of a snow covered field. I have been perched at the top of the mountain gazing down upon the brilliance and majesty of the valley below. I have seen the sun come up across the vastness of the desert bringing life back to the soul. I have gazed into the depths of the night while the fireflies light the sky and the Tree Frogs sing me a lullaby. I have felt the gentle lapping of the water as the wind fills the sail. I have watched the heron take flight as I silently glide across the deep green waters. I have been lost in a sea of stars so brilliant in the night sky that they showed me the true path to my soul. I have heard the silent calling of the forest as her boughs embrace me drawing me deeper into myself thus freeing my heart. As we gather around the fire we let the soft sounds of James Taylor remind us of what we have lost and what we can gain.
Here is one I had almost forgotten about. I was sitting around the house one Saturday morning and jotted this one down. The Siren’s Call Eagerly and with great anticipation I await her call. Time stands still as the promise of a bright new day awaits just over the horizon. My senses are filled with the heady aroma as the heavenly sound fills the morning air with the prospect of a fresh start and a new beginning. Hopes and high expectations all are pinned to her call. Oh the desolation and despair if her call does not come is beyond imagination. Heaven awaits just on the other side of that call. Oh the siren’s call, the anticipation has built to a climax, the time is getting closer I can hear the gurgles like a bubbling brook as the aroma gets stronger and fresher. Oh how much longer till I hear her call? I can’t even imagine a morning without her! Ah! There it is, “beep beep”, coffee is ready!
