Sensory Overload!


Go! (Australian TV channel)

Image via Wikipedia

While looking
into your love’s eyes,

Change his
heart with a kiss,

Overwhelm his
senses,

With promises of bliss,

One lip to
nibble,

Two to
taste,

How many
doesn’t matter,

There’s none
to waste,

Tenderness
or passion,

Give him a
cue,

Discover his
weaknesses,

Repeat steps
one and two,

You’ll have
to be careful,

To teach him
the word “NO!”

For a kiss
to him,

Often means “GO!

Kissing is quite
simple,

But you must
learn the code,

Because you
have to be prepared,

For sensory
overload!

 

With a Kiss


French Kiss

Image via Wikipedia

Your kiss turns
me inside out,

Curls my
toes clear up to my knees,

I’m not sure
why it does what it does,

Would you
give me another one please?

 

One small kiss
tastes like nothing,

Nothing I’ve
ever had before,

I’ve been
waiting here for samples,

Won’t you please
give me some more?

 

If we are parted by some twist of fate,

Until I
return you’ll be in my heart,

I’ll remember the moments we’ve shared,

But it’ll always be with your kisses I’ll
start,

 

Write me a letter
of love if you will,

Say while we’re
apart it’s me you miss,

Stain it
with tears so I’ll feel sad,

Before you
send it, seal it with a kiss,

 

When I
return to hug you and squeeze,

I want your
kiss to mean what you say,

So
eloquently tell me what you mean,

With a kiss
that thrills me in every way.

 

 

“It’ll Come For You!”


shadow people

Image by BEYOURPET via Flickr

“Tell me a
scary story, Papa,

One that won’t
let me sleep,”

 

“Okay,
child, I’ll tell you one,

That will be
dark and deep,”

 

“Papa, is it the one about a toe,

Where the
monster seeks revenge?”

 

“No, child,
this one is scarier yet,

And you’ll
be in the middle, not on the fringe,”

 

“Papa, tell
me true,

Is it something that happened to you?”

 

“Yes, my
child, once when all was locked tight,

I was
writing a story in the midst of night,

When out of
the corner of my eye,

I saw a movement, then a shape in the moonlight,

I turned but
not fast enough,

For only a
shadow remained in sight,

Then it, too,
was gone in a flash,”

“My mind is
playing tricks on me,” I said,

“I think it’s
time for me to go to bed,”

 

“Papa, is
that the end of the story?”

 

“Be patient,
my child, for there is more,

I went into
my room and closed the door,

But I could
feel , yes, feel, eyes fixed outside,

Wanting for me
to open wide the door,

And so I
did, expecting nothing but my fear,

But there
was a man standing there,

I guess he’d
been there for awhile,

Looking at
me straight on with an evil smile,”

 

“Papa, were
you scared, what did you do?”

 

“He wore a
cloak, his eyes were red,

I closed the
door, stayed awake in bed,

Waited until
the dawn’s first light,

To see if I
was alive or dead,

He was
standing in that very hall,

Now go to
sleep, if you can sleep at all,”

 

“Papa, I’m
scared, is this story true?

Did this
really happen to you?”

 

“Child, it
happened night after night,

Your mother
couldn’t take it,

Always
mumbling about an awful fright,

Eventually it
scared her enough  and she took flight,

She’s living
in a home for those disturbed,

Claiming she’s
okay and not perturbed,

She claims
my story is quite inane,

And I’m the
one who’s really insane,

My story is
not long, but it is true,

Now go to
sleep, my child, or it’ll come for you.”

 

 

 

Mixed Messages!


Lipstick used to make a symbolic kiss.

Image via Wikipedia

Don’t be
messing with little girls now,

They’ll be
running, they’ll be crying, they’ll be telling,

Stop! Don’t!
Leave them alone!

Don’t be
kissing little girls then,

They’ll be
running, they’ll be smiling, they’ll still be telling,

Don’t! Stop!
Leave them alone!

Don’t be
messing with big girls now,

They’re not
running, they’ve been changing, now they’re waiting,

Stop! Don’t!
What are you thinking?

Don’t be
kissing those big girls now,

They’ll do
the catching because they’ve been scheming,

Stop! Don’t
stop! What were you dreaming?

If those
kisses you wanted turned out to be teasing,

And thoughts
of tomorrow are delightfully pleasing,

Don’t stop!
Don’t let her get away!

You’ll be caught
by one you thought you were chasing,

Captured by
the mixed messages you were receiving,

Don’t
stop!  Your world is just beginning!

Start! Don’t
stop! Love keeps the world turning,

Don’t stop
loving!  Don’t stop living!

Don’t stop!
Keep on giving!

Don’t stop!

 

 

The Coin (Part 8)


Calderilla coin

Image via Wikipedia

Four huge impressive
pillars at the entrance of the Superior Court almost stopped Vanna from
entering the building.  She passed people
in suits, men and women in police uniforms, and a variety of others in more
casual attire.  She asked herself again, “What
am I doing here?”

She was not a risk
taker and had never wanted to be one.
She was just Vanna, daughter of a preacher, who made a habit of doing what
she was told.  She had stayed out of
trouble all her life, was called an “over achiever” by her teachers, and made
the Dean’s list in college before she was forced to drop out in the middle of
her third year . 

“Don’t get even.  No revenge.”  She could almost hear her father’s voice
admonishing her. “Your life should not be ruled by hatred or fear.”  These words had been taken to heart but they
were high ideals in an imperfect world. Two months later he had been shot in
front of his church trying to thwart an attempted robbery. What good were his
words then?  And where was God when that happened? 

Vanna had been
disillusioned and angry, but kept her feelings tightly contained. She decided
she would take charge of her own destiny but her life continued to unravel.  Two months later her mother died from a brain
tumor and Vanna dropped out of school, taking charge of her four younger
siblings.  Her almost perfect life had
taken a nosedive into an abyss.

Jobs were scarce, but
Vanna found a job working as a maid.  She
would rush to her job, rush home afterwards, and then help her sister and brothers
with their homework and listen to their personal problems.  Vanna was overwhelmed by it all but she was
determined to keep them all together.
She thought they were doing well until she learned Karl, her 14 year old
brother, was hanging around the wrong group. She worried constantly, “ What could
she do to keep him out of trouble?”

Now as she moved about
the court building she had the sinking feeling she would be back, perhaps to
keep Karl out of jail. She wanted to turn and run but the coin was vibrating
against her breast, overriding any thoughts of slipping away.  Her world had changed and now she had no
choice but complete her mission. 

Several policemen stood
in front of one set of doors.  They
admitted a few sharply tailored lawyers carrying briefcases and stacks of
papers.  “Miss,” one of the policemen
said, “you’ll have to wait down the hall until it’s time to come in.” 

Vanna didn’t need to
stop there because the coin was urging her on, up the stairs to the second
floor.  She walked past the room
designated for the jury pool and noticed it was filled with people.  Some were pleading with the clerk that they
had hardships and could not serve, others were sitting quietly, and there were a
few who seemed eager to be selected.

 As the coin vibrated, Vanna sat down in an
empty seat and waited.  A clerk held up a
paper and began reading a list of names.  As their names were called, people got up and
headed to their assigned courtrooms. Vanna rose with the second group and
followed them down the hall and into a room.

 When the group was seated the lawyers began
the selection process, which Vanna thought was ridiculous.  She stifled a giggle as she imagined what the
lawyers might be thinking as they began dividing the group. “You take one and I’ll
take one, and we’ll find all the jurors who have emotional links to the victim
or the defendant and toss them out.” She straightened up and listened intently
when the prosecutor asked a young man, “If you believe the evidence leaves
doubt as to whether someone is guilty, could you vote for conviction?” “I
could,” he replied.

 After the jurors and alternate jurors were
selected, the rest of the group was dismissed.
Since Vanna was only pretending to be a juror she went out into the
hallway. While she was at a vending machine she overheard the young man talking
in the hallway with another juror.  “I’ll
vote “not guilty” if the rest of the jury decides against him.  Women lie about being raped all the time.”
Outraged by his irresponsible statement,Vanna glared at him but still said
nothing.

This seemed to be a
waste of time.  The coin had not led her
to her attacker, nor given her any clear directions.  Just when she was ready to give up, the coin
started humming and Vanna returned to the courtroom.  The jury was seated, the lawyers were in
their respective places, and the bailiff was stationed.  The bailiff said formally, “All rise while the
Honorable Judge enters.”  A man in a
flowing black robe entered and sat behind the Bench.  The bailiff faced the audience and said, “Please
be seated.”

Vanna looked around the
room searching for someone she recognized.
When she looked at the judge her heart began to pound wildly. He was one
of her attackers! She knew it even though she had no evidence to prove it.  She stared again at the judge, expecting some
sign of recognition.  The judge did not
notice her behavior or anyone else except for one. His gaze swept the courtroom
and rested on the jury, then on the young man in particular.  A slight nod and then the judge declared the
court to be in session. 

Vanna was shocked.”What
had just happened? Was the defendant going to be declared innocent because of a
judge that couldn’t be trusted? Indignantly she willed the coin into action, expectantly
waiting for the judge to topple over with a heart attack.  Nothing happened.  The coin was allowing justice to be trampled
on. Her anger rose quickly, and she almost stood up. “Kill him,” she
thought.  “Kill him.”

 A lifetime of inner restraint caught her in
time. “What was she doing?”  The coin was
vibrating softly. Then she realized it was working against her!  She glanced quickly around the room.  A pair of black glittering eyes glared
menacingly at her.  A cold shiver went up
her spine! Reggie! What was he doing here?

Her hate. His hate. A
battle was going on inside the courtroom without anyone knowing.  They were mentally sparring, jab for jab,
blow for blow. No one was winning.
Reggie sat there grinning smugly knowing the coin still responded to
him. Vanna was furious yet contained. Suddenly she remembered one of her father’s
sermons. “The only thing that can conquer hate is love.  Love is more powerful than hate. Don’t let
hate win.  Love more and hate will flee.”

Love was not something
she wanted to think about.  She wanted
justice and revenge, not love.  But
slowly she focused her thoughts on her parents, her sister and brothers.  She let her compassion flow to the rape
victim and then to the young man in the jury.
Reggie appeared confused.  He rose
and hurried from the room.  The judge,
seeing Reggie leave, tapped his gavel on the bench.  “There will be a thirty minute recess,” he
announced. Then he disappeared into his chambers.

Vanna sat there with
her eyes closed, still thinking about people she cared about.  When she thought about people who had
mistreated her, and how she forgave them, she could feel the coin’s power
growing.  This time it was following her
lead. 

The Honorable Judge Hudson
never returned to the bench.  An
announcement was made after an hour that the judge was sick and a new judge
would be seated to take his place.  The
jury was dismissed for the day but they were told they would reconvene the
following day.

Vanna waited outside
the court, wanting to get more information.
She thought she saw Judge Hudson rush away, almost as if he were
escaping inner demons.  The coin hummed and
then fell silent for a moment.  Vanna
hurried outside, trying to get one more glimpse of the judge.

Outside a crowd of
people were gathering by the street.  Someone
called out, “Call 9-1-1”.  Most of the
crowd appeared stunned and distraught.  “He
just stepped in front of a taxi,” a woman wailed.  “He didn’t even look at it.”  Vanna knew it was the judge but wondered why
he had done this.  She had already
forgiven him.

 (to be continued)

 

 

 

  

Three Love Letters (of a different kind)


Venus and Mars with Cupid

Image via Wikipedia

Dear Sir:

Your love
account is overdrawn and all privileges have been withdrawn.  You have six days to bring your account to a
positive balance in order to remain in good standing.  We do appreciate your business but please
understand that future attempts at love will be rebuffed and returned.  If you have any questions or want to share
your views, please contact us quickly.

Signed,

The love gurus,

Venus, Cupid, Eros

 

Dear Love
Gurus:

I tried to
explain that my love life,

Had been
filled with failures and strife,

After
several relationships were done,

I thought, “I’m
not having fun,”

Struggling
with my own misconceptions and love wary,

I decided to
write a book titled, “Love is Scary”,

Who better
than me to write about what could go wrong,

Accepted and
rejected, and suffering for so long,

I knew how
to build walls around my hardened heart,

Allowing no
place for new love to ever start,

My book
would have many chapters to write,

So don’t
expect me to finish it in just one night,

But if I ever
open another account to share,

Please be
advised I’d have love to spare.

Sincerely,

Heartbroken

 

I received
another letter today, and it’s plain to see that things might go my way. This
time I’ll pay attention to things that matter, because I don’t want another
love to shatter.

 

 

Dear Sir:

We
understand your recent relationship has gone sour,

But we’re prepared to make an offer this very
hour.

If your old love is still in good condition,

And you’d
like to upgrade to a current edition,

We have just
received trade-ins we selected,

They’ve
hardly been loved, perhaps all have been neglected,

All with very low mileage and require little
maintenance,

To get back into the game, this is your
chance,

With a fresh
coat of paint and new trim,

She’ll be
revitalized, also sleek and slim,

These models
are spotless, so much cleaner,

They’ll all
be parked where the grass is greener,

Now as for
you, in order to get your price,

You’ll have
to do some of your own sacrifice,

Work out and
get yourself in shipshape form,

Bring
yourself up to the loving norm,

Treat her
well, better than a friend,

Because if
you don’t, she’ll trade you in.

Sincerely,

The Love
Gurus,

Venus,
Cupid, Eros

 

Their last
letter gave me reason to ponder, perhaps I could learn to be so much fonder, if
I turned my heart loose and let it fly free, love might choose to stay with
me.  It’s merely a thought, a dream or a
hope, but it’s a chance for love to thrive and cope.

 

The Magic of Nature


IMG_8516

Image by harrischristopoulos via Flickr

When I was a
child I might disappear for awhile,

Looking for
places that were deemed worthwhile,

The top of a
tree, Inside a fortress of hay,

To observe
the magic of nature just for the day,

But I didn’t
want to be late for dinner,

Southern
cornbread, fried potatoes and beans,

Tomatoes,
onions, pokesalad greens,

If I was
hungry come and get it while it’s hot,

If I had to
be called twice, I guess I’m not,

But I had to
see the speckled eggs in a bluebird’s nest,

Stop to
watch the piglets feed at Mr. Joe’s Barn,

Stoop to
throw a rock at snakes that could do me some harm,

Count the
circles the hawk made as she searched for mice,

Wondered if
the crawdads would still be nice,

Listen to
the frogs croak at the edges of the pond,

Take one
last look and wave my magic wand,

“Stay there,” I would call, “I’ll don’t want to be thinner,”

And off I’d
race to get part of dinner,

Mom would be
exasperated, “What kept you?”

I’d hang my
head, “I had things to do,”

Then when I
finished my chores,

I asked if I
could go outdoors,

For the sun
was hanging at earth’s very edge,

Splashing red
and gold on trees and hedge,

And then as
it slipped away from the day,

Darkness
descended so animals could play,

Scissortails
and bats flew around with flair,

Snatching mosquitoes
and insects out of the air,

Nocturnal shapes
and all kinds of beasts,

Appeared
from the shadows ready to feast,

Dinner for
them was life or death,

The
quickest, the strongest, the ones out of breath,

Huffing and
puffing or slipping around,

They
measured their foes by fang or by sound,

I watched
and waited for a deadly dance,

Marveled in
nature’s way of living by chance,

Then with
starlight to guide me homeward I sped,

Where I
could sleep soundly in my own safe bed.