Remembrance
Current mood:  loved
Category: Writing and Poetry

I sat watching an old movie today and it sparked a memory of you and I.  a memory so sharp and clear it was like it happend only moments before.  I remeber the night was clear, the sky, refulgent with the splendor of the stars.  We were sitting on a park bench, enjoying each others company when you turned, took my face in your hands, and looking deeply into my eyes, told me you loved me for the very first time.  That I was the air you breathed and you had never cared or loved anyone as much as you loved me.  Then gave me the most tender of kisses.

My heart, which, still friable from past loves, nearly burst with the joy I felt at that moment.  I had never felt so loved, so cherished.  It's a feeling I still have today, every time I look into your loving eyes, every time I look at the beautiful child we created together, my heart leaps and dances in my chest. 

The opulence of our love knows no boundaries.  It grows greater and stronger with each passing day and I live for the day where, in thirty years we will come back to the place where you first told me you loved me, sit on a park bench on a beautifully clear starry night and tell me you love me again.

Currently listening: Greatest Love Songs By Will Downing Release date: 15 January, 2002

Picture Window II (continuation of a work in progress)
Current mood:  creative
Category: Writing and Poetry

Still in a contemplative mood, John picks up his pen and again begins to write.  Letting the words flow onto the paper as they flow in his mind.

A look across a crowded dinner party, just a brief glance and already, I'm smitten.  A vision in a backless gown, its graceful lines drapes her tall, lithe frame in a seduction of black silk.  Her mocha skin, flawless in its perfection plays a dramatic backdrop to the single strand pearls hanging between her shoulder blades.  The simplicity of her attire creates an air of sophistication and mystery that she carries with cool confidence.

"Damn, that was good." John thinks to himself, and then continues to write.

The combination is appealing and draws my attention like a moth to a flame.  The contours of her face, the high cheekbones, angular jaw-line and full, pouty lips have already been etched into my heart.  The small smile she bestows on her companion sets my insides on fire! I must meet the woman whom I have already decided will be my future wife.  With a brief apology to my friends and forced nonchalance, I head in the direction of this beautiful woman.  I force myself to stop along the way and acknowledge friends to keep myself from running up to her, falling to my knees and declaring my adoration like some love-sick fool.  While stopping to talk to another colleague, I see that she has noticed me and is watching my progression with detached curiosity.  I have to stop myself from staring.  But her eyes draw me in; their luminosity encompasses me and pulls me in deeper and deeper until I feel like I'm drowning.

John is amazed that his prose has taken on a life of its own.  The words seem to just appear without his even putting pen to paper.  Yet he cannot stop, fearing that he will lose this amazing and intriguing line of thought, he continues to write.

Finally making my way to her side, I introduce myself with what I hope is a look of genuine interest and not the look of utter infatuation that is coursing through my veins.  "Hi, my name is Alex.  I noticed you from across the room there and wanted to come and personally thank you for attending my little gathering here."  She takes a step back and looks at him, hand extended.  Shaking his hand she replies, "Hello Alex, I'm Rebecca and thank you for having me.  You have a beautiful home."  Pleasantries aside, Rebecca turns to introduce her companions.  "These are my colleagues; John Rice, Hank Morris and Christine Alexander, and my fiancé Robert Christianson."  Alex's heart plummets to his shoes, hearting Rebecca's introduction of her fiancé, he then notices the sizeable diamond on her hand, but with a polite smile, he welcomes his guests, thanks them again for coming and as casually as his bruised ego will allow, moves off to welcome more guests.  Mentally licking his wounds, and not being one to give up so easily, he reminds himself that she's engaged, not married.  "There's still hope." he whispers to himself, his spirits lifting.  Throughout the rest of the evening, Alex watches Rebecca, taking mental notes on how she and Robert interact with each other, looking for any little nuance he can use to his advantage.  Already decided on a plan of action, he sits back to enjoy the rest of his evening.

Putting the pen down, John reaches up for a long overdue stretch.  Reading again what he has written, he shakes his head in amazement, still surprised at his own skill.  Feeling that he has done enough for today, John closes his book, pays his bill and decides to return to the café again tomorrow to see what the next day will bring.

Currently listening: Love Songs By Billie Holiday Release date: 12 March, 1996

Nicholas
Current mood:  loved
Category: Writing and Poetry

NICHOLAS

You brought sunshine into my life the day you were born.  My heart bursts with joy at your first cries of life.

I watch you sleep in wonder, that something so small could have such a large impact on my life.  I adore your cute little face and the dimple in your cheek.  You are such a joy to me, my son.  The center of my life.  All that I am and hope to be.

You slumber quietly my son, and my heart is overflowing with the joy I feel as I watch your peaceful rest.  My heart aches with loving you and burns with a fear I dare not acknowledge.  A fear that I am not good enough for you that I will fail in raising you to manhood.

But then you awaken and look at me with those beautiful brown eyes and all is well with the world.  You reach out to me with your small hands and once again I am swept up in the tidal wave of joy I feel whenever you are near.

I love you Nicholas, my son, my heart forever.

Hope Everlasting
Current mood:  contemplative
Category: Writing and Poetry

HOPE EVERLASTING

Deception tears thru my heart like fire.  Lies tear thru me like the serrated edge of the hunter's knife.  Helpless, my body bared to the bone, I am defenseless against the onslaught of pain.

Tears burn my face; the anguish I feel is indescribable.  I am wounded beyond repair.  As I sit in my desolation and sorrow, a young woman approaches me.  She brings with her the light of hope.

Her words of comfort soothe my scorched flesh.  Her loving touch heals my wounded heart.  She speaks of love and joy.  The birth of children and the promise of a better tomorrow and my soul feels joyous again.

She counsels me to stay strong and to follow the path lay before me.  For it leads to a wondrous place.  A place filled with laughter, love, joy and above all else...HOPE.

Slow and Comfortable
Current mood:  naughty
Category: Writing and Poetry

SLOW AND COMFORTABLE

Remember When
Current mood:  contemplative
Category: Writing and Poetry

REMEMBER WHEN

Remember when you and I could touch and feel one another even before either of us entered the room?

How making love until the early rays of morning came peeking thru the window?

Remember when we didn't care where we made love so long as we where together?  We would be so deep in a state of passion we would lose all sense of time and place?  Our bodies dripping tears of sex, our hands everywhere driving each other to the brink of oblivion.  My mouth bringing you closer and closer to climax, suckling your tip, licking the fine sheen of sweat from your body.  My screams of pleasure as you nibble and bite my womanly core.  Your hands massaging my thighs, keeping me pinned to your invading tongue.

Remember when I would beg you to end my torture and plunge deep inside me, burying yourself to the hilt?  How I would wrap my legs around your thrusting waist and match your rhythm?  How your whispered words of rapture would bring a smile to my sex flushed face and how my deep throaty purr would send massive chills up and down your spine?

Remember when we would climax together, both of us crying out, then falling into a deep slumber brought on by mutual exhaustion, limbs entwined, hearts joined in eternity?

Remember when…

Picture Window - a work in progress
Current mood:  moody
Category: Writing and Poetry

Sitting in the local café, focusing on the stark white page in front of him, waiting patiently for some inkling of inspiration, John's attention is suddenly distracted by the delicately attractive female at the next table. He sits mesmerized by her mouth, the soft "O" her lips make as she grasps her straw to sip her soda. The crinkle at the corners of her mouth as she draws the liquid further into her. Her quiet perusal of the latest edition of some fashion magazine has him bemused and intrigued at the same time. He fixates on her hands and mouth letting his mind wander. The delicious thoughts have sparked the thread of an idea.

Pulling his attention back to the notebook in front of him, he aggressively begins to write. His mind, meandering back and forth between the enticing woman and his notebook, he wrote, his minds eye seeing her mouth doing things to his anatomy, her hands stroking places in his rampant imagination, his writing changed from contemplative to erotic. The more his mind wandered to the next table, the faster he wrote, phrases like,"My eyes burn with hunger as I watch you move closer. Your body is sinuous and sleek, your mouth sensuous and inviting. My heart pounds with each step you take.", began to appear on the page.

"This might be my greatest work yet", he thought to himself as he feverishly continued to write. The woman at the next table, oblivious to the storm she has created, has temporarily given up her magazine for the luscious confection before her. Its rich chocolate lushness drawing her in, her eyes dilate in anticipation. John, groaning inwardly, watches her take that first blissful bite, her face contorts into a mask of pure pleasure. She is completely absorbed in the enjoyment of her treat, still ignorant of the torture John endures watching.

Eventually, and to Johns' dismay, she finishes the languid consumption of the confection, pays her tab and departs the café. Johns writing has now come to a screeching halt. His muse gone, he once again sits staring blankly out the picture window.

My Image of Love
Category: Writing and Poetry

My Image of Love

Alone at night I sit

in front of a blank canvas

and envision your face.

My hands work

of their own volition,

creating the image

I now see with my minds eye

Your eyes, the planes of your cheekbones

the angle of your nose.  They all

take form on my canvas

Bringing to life my image of love

My Image of You.

Forbidden Desire
Category: Writing and Poetry

You made love to me last night. It was passionate and slow, a culmination of two souls adrift in a sea of bliss.  Your lips snatched the very breath from my lungs.  Your arms held me near your heart.  Your whispered words sent my emotions soaring to the clouds.  How can a love so tender be forbidden?

And although it's forbidden, it's still as sweet as warm chocolate, a fiery as a volcano, as tumultuous as a raging storm and as wondrous as new fallen snow.  And yet, we cannot be together.  For our lives follow separate paths and must continue on.

You are forever in my heart darling.  My body aches for your touch as my soul cries tears of frustration.  Why must we go on in this torment?

Will we ever know this feeling of bliss again?  Are our souls destined to remain apart?  I think not!  For ours is a love blessed by the Angels ans sent to earth on the wings of doves.

Our time will come my love.  Until then, keep me in you heart as I keep you in my soul.

Kids say the darndest things
Current mood:  contemplative
Category: Blogging

Every wonder what goes on inside a child's mind? Ever wonder why you always hear, "Watch what you say around your kids"?

No matter what the age, kids will always surprise you with what they know, have learned, heard or picked up from those around them. What boggles my mind is that most know in what context to use what they've learned. Take for instance my son Nick, a very bright, energetic 3 year old, who just the other day politely informed me that "it is not disgusting to dig for worms." How did he know how to use, let alone pronounce such a big word as "disgusting"? He has also on occasion said some words that I can only attribute his father to using in his presence.

But let's not forget those times when you wish the floor would just open up and swallow you whole because your child, that loving creature you gave life to has just managed, with a simple question, thought or statement spoken just a little too loudly, to embarass you in front of your boss, family, friends, the cashier at the market...the list goes on. And as you smile and try to laugh off what was just said or act like you didn't hear, they repeat their question or statement, because of course they waiting for you to answer them and think "maybe mommy didn't hear me". So, you take your foot out of your throat, take your child by the hand and exit stage left.

But how do you then advise your child that, "Honey you shouldn't talk about the color of mommy's underwear in front of mommy's boss"? Or please don't mention that you saw daddy's "thingy" in the shower at Grandma's okay?

Kids, you just never know what they'll say next and can never be prepared for when they do speak their minds (and they will). But you've got to love them!