THE DANCE OF LOVE


THE DANCE OF LOVE

 

Silky and smooth,

Her skin is carved from alabaster,

Very soft to the touch.

As they dance he is very much aware

Of her gown clinging to every inch.

The pressure of his hands guides her,

Taking her on a journey across the universe.

She responds to his touch,

Gliding and sailing over the marble floor,

Becoming more and more

A part of him.

Slight dips and spins become movements of love,

Her heated body melting into his.

She wears nothing between the outer fabric and her skin,

And he struggles to keep focused.

A few quick steps and he lifts her into the air,

Triumphantly, aware of eyes watching admiringly.

He lowers her, and she touches ground gracefully.

She whispers into his ear and they disappear into the night,

Dashing the hopes of those who were watching.

But at the same time encouraging them to dream,

To dream and love and create their own fantasy.

 

June 15, 2017

 

 

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The music begins and my tension fades.
I relax as we warm up for a strenuous routine.
My partner says, “This has to be a good practice.
We are still clumsy and we compete in two weeks.”
Our movements must be fluid and graceful,
Effortless and natural.
Two long steps, Slide, two quick steps.
Your hands hold me firmly as you guide me.
You lead and I follow.
You step. I step.
My steps at the beginning match yours,
Except that I’m in high heels and going backwards.
No words are necessary.
We communicate by touch and sight.
My confidence in you is well-founded.
Your confidence in me is invigorating.
There is no hesitation as we spin and twirl.
When we make love our movements are smooth and natural,
Following our guidelines for dancing.
There is no rush and my arousal is guiding us.
We move purposely, learning from each other.
My anticipation builds as you touch and caress,
Loving me with gentle consideration.
You move and I follow.

The trust you’ve earned lets me relax,
And I celebrate our love with abandon.
As I love, dance, communicate, and celebrate,
My love grows deeper each time.

Wild Heart


Woman at left is painter Suzanne Valadon
Image via Wikipedia

Wild heart,
she danced with abandon,

Her feet, wild
feet, rarely touched the ground,

I watched
her dance with another,

In the
corner I gasped but barely made a sound,

What brought
her to me I do not know,

My heart had
long stood still,

Her eyes
caught mine and she smiled,

And I was
hers, captured against my will,

Wild she was
as she loved the world,

And the
world loved her as well,

She danced with
her heart and soul,

A wild woman
I could tell,

Futile it
was to remain and stare,

So I warned
my clumsy feet,

“Act like
you know what you’re doing,

There’s a
lady I’d like to greet,”

My eyes, my
heart, were leading the way,

I stumbled
up to her side,

“Would you,
I mean, please dance with me,”

She turned
me down and wounded my manly pride,

How long I
stayed I can’t recall,

I could see
she wasn’t ready to leave,

What a night
this was turning out to be,

She was
practicing how to deceive,

The
babysitter went home and I told the kids,

“Your mother
has dancing in her blood,

She’s not
coming home, we’re all alone,

I’d change
it if I could,”

They didn’t
understand how things could change,

As quickly
as some clouds turn wild,

Somewhere
out there the sun will shine,

And people will
talk without guile,

But when darkness
falls and the music calls,

Some of them
will turn wild.

 

 

“That’s What Love Do!”


The Front Porch Country Band
Image via Wikipedia

“If you could only go there,

soaking up the atmosphere,

 feeling the magic in the beat,

 the thump of the bass stirring up heat,

 dancing heart to heart and cheek to cheek,

 the bold reaching out for the mild and meek,

 it’s a place that casts a spell,

Come and go with me, I know it well.”

I can still hear her words as she invited me to come listen to her play.  Her eyes invited me a second time, teasing, offering more than moments of listening pleasure.  Erika stopped in often where I worked, watching me wait on customers, smiling whenever I glanced her way.  When that customer left she would come up to the counter and ask if I could help her find a tool of some kind. 

She drew a crowd almost every time she sauntered in, weaving around the other salesmen, ignoring their eager pleas of assistance. She was slim and curvy, her jeans tight, her ample breasts straining against the fabric of her blouse.  She always kept two buttons undone, just to keep the men and boys at her beck and call. I tried to ignore her.  I could imagine the saliva dripping from their mouths. 

Perhaps that was why she was so persistent. Erika would lean forward, placing both elbows on the counter, her eyes focused on me, watching for a reaction of any kind. She was aware of the silence as the men held their breaths hoping that the fabric might tear, or Erika might jiggle in some way.

I waved them all away, at least out of earshot.  “Okay, Erika, what do you want this time?”

“Come out tonight, Bobby, and listen to our band.  You’ll be glad you did.”  “If I go tonight you won’t bother me anymore?”

 “I promise, Bobby.” 

“But what about your husband?”  They were still together as far as I knew.

“We’re in a trial separation.  He said he doesn’t care.  Anyway, what does it matter?  I’m tired of his obsessive behavior.  I don’t belong to him. As far as I’m concerned we’re through.”  She stared at me. “Are you going to be there or not?”

“Okay.  But just this once.”   She smiled broadly, turned and walked out, every step accentuated, pretending to be oblivious to all the wolves hiding in the aisles. 

They rushed to me, wanting to know every juicy detail, especially since Erika was smiling on her way out.  I told them nothing, content to let them conjecture and imagine, their heads full of takes and retakes of scenes right out of Hollywood.

“I’d sure like to be in his shoes,” a young associate said loudly.

  One of the ones who had stared the most muttered, “She’s nothing but trouble. Bobby’s done good to stay away from her.”

 He didn’t know I was going to see her tonight.

Erika usually played guitar and sang three or four songs, but sometimes she would sing one or two extra, if there was a special occasion.  Tonight she had already downed a few rum and colas and was feeling good. She saw me enter and immediately she took charge of the band, running through several riffs and songs that had furious flourishes, evidently to impress me. 

The band took a break and Erika came to my table. “Well, what did you think?” she asked. 

“I want something slower and easier to dance to.” 

She shrugged.  Soon she started singing “I Love A Rainy Night” and followed with “Black Velvet”.  I stood on the dance floor swaying slowly. A young woman wrapped her arms around me, her head on my chest. Erika put her guitar away. She came off the stage and pulled the woman away.”He’s with me,” she said coldly.

“I need a breath of fresh air,” she said as she led me outside.  “Now what was that all about?” she asked.

“I wanted to dance,” I said bluntly.  “You’re married and I don’t belong to you so what’s the problem?”  I knew she was jealous. She was shaking, angry at me, angry at the girl, angry at the world, just angry because she had no control over the situation.

“I need a drink,” she said, “so I can cool down.”  I started towards the bar. “Don’t buy me one. The bartender will give me as many as I ask for.”  Jake, the bartender, saw her coming and began mixing a drink.  “I want this one to be a double,” she said flatly. “I need something strong.” 

She turned to me. “Dance with whoever you want. Just don’t take anybody home. The band will be done in about an hour.  I want to see you after that.” 

I danced with several women, doing the two step around the room, the slide, and a few line dances to fill the time.  I got a few offers to go somewhere else for drinks, to share  coffee, take someone home, and numbers to call.  They were very friendly, one and all.  I collected rainchecks and phone numbers and dates for other times. Then Erika showed up and they all scattered.  “Let’s go to the park by your apartment.  We can talk without being interrupted.”   

Erika had always been rebellious and claimed she lived in outlaw country.  I wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk about but I was pretty sure it wasn’t about flowers and songs.

Outside it was raining, hard and steady. We were both drenched when we  climbed into my truck.  She glanced over and then slid next to me, her warmth stirring me, filling me with anticipated pleasure.  She was staring, her eyes large and focused.  They were intensely hypnotic, and strangely compelling.  The rain was making it difficult to focus on the white lines of my lane, and she was not helping. If I looked one more second I was sure I would lose control of my truck and my body. I shivered and clung to the wheel. She giggled as if I had just touched her in some sensitive spot.  Involuntarily, parts of my body were reacting to her voice, her smile, and her touch. By now her fingers were inside my shirt, dancing across my chest while her tongue played with my ear.

I didn’t intend for anything to happen.  I thought I could resist her. “Just say no,” I told myself. She didn’t really want to talk. When her blouse came off my resistance ceased. Helpless to resist, I became a willing partner.  She was wild and passionate, eager to please, and wanting release. I was surprised by my own needy but powerful response.

We held each other for a long time, just listening to the rain, before we dressed and talked.  Erika was adamant she wanted to be with me and not her husband.  “When are you going to leave him?” I asked.

“Soon,” she replied. “I can’t leave Wes right now.  He’s had some bad luck lately.  When he gets everything going again, then I’ll leave.”

There was not much to talk about after that so we just cuddled for awhile. Finally I said, “I need to get you home.”  Erika glared at me but said nothing as I drove the rainy roads, down the lane to her house, and pulled to a stop. 

The porch lights snapped on, and I felt very conspicuous.  Wes stepped out onto the porch and started towards the truck.  “This could be trouble,” I muttered.  But Wes just waved and said, “Thanks for bringing her home.  I worry about her when she’s late and I know she’s been drinking.” 

This unnerved me. I was expecting rage and jealousy. I’m not sure if I wanted him to be carrying a rifle or handgun, but to be friendly just seemed odd.  

Wes gave Erika a hug and ushered her inside. I sat for a minute more trying to comprehend, and I left still shaking my head.

The next week Erika came to the store several times just to say hi, to flirt, and give me a hug and a kiss.  She wasn’t hiding our relationship. Everything was in the open. She told everyone her marriage was over, except for the shouting.

We met several times a week, and always on weekends.  It was the same story every time.  We didn’t go out to eat, go to the movies, or attempt to go on any normal dates.  After dancing and music, we would park or go to my apartment.  It was clear nothing more was expected or wanted.  Gradually I began insisting I wanted more from the relationship.  Without realizing it I was falling into love.

I know it sounded strange so I never tried explaining it to anyone. I resented taking her home and turning her over to her husband.  This relationship had to change.  I was tired of fighting my conscience, tired of sharing but Erika refused to listen. She kept saying, “This is not a good time for Wes. He’s struggling with so many things.”

Finally I said, “You have to make a choice.  It’s either Wes or me.” She looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Then she smiled. “Okay, it’s time to make some changes. Be patient, though.”

I didn’t hear from her for several weeks. I tried to give her time to get her life straightened out.  I was working in the backroom putting away supplies when another employee said, “Bobby, you have a customer out front.”

I was excited, expecting to see Erika.  Instead it was Wes, looking haggard and worried. “Bobby, Erika is all I really have and all I really wanted.  When she was with you I knew it was just a fling but she always came home.  Now she’s been gone for almost three days.  I can’t sleep.  I can’t eat.  I can’t live without her.  Do you know where she is? I just want her safe at home.” 

Before me was a broken man, his self esteem destroyed but his love intact.  I couldn’t turn him away.  “Wes, I’ll help you search.”

Together we searched Erika’s hangouts and sought help from her friends.  At first our search was fruitless. Then someone from her band gave us a name and an address. Eventually we found her walking barefoot down a side street, heading home.  She claimed she was tired of being pressured so she had found a new boyfriend. He was not so nice.  He had slapped her a few times and refused to take her home. When he wasn’t watching she had made her getaway.

She was pleased to see Wes but she frowned when she saw me. “Wes, I just want to go home and get cleaned up.  I want to rest and cuddle with you.”

I drove them home in silence.  Wes watched Erika go inside the house before he said wearily, “Erika is an alcoholic and unfaithful. She’s always been like that since I found her years ago.  I love her and it’s my job to see that she’s taken care of.  I’m the only real home she knows.  She’ll always come back. She needs me too.”

Suddenly it was all very clear.  Wes and Erika were two desperate needy people, and in their own weird way were meant for each other.  I didn’t have an answer for Wes for I loved her too.  At that moment my plans for the future changed and I decided to stick around and keep watch over both of them.  I was the only sane one of the bunch. You might think it’s weird but it makes sense to me.  That’s what love do.

“To the Ready, Forward March!”


 “Grab your trombone and have some fun!

We can circle the square and stay in the sun,”

I feel like marching when my trombone plays,

Sometimes even on windy or rainy days,

Seventy-six trombones” is my favorite song,

Because it’s happy and boisterous as I march along,                                  

What better way to make everybody’s day,

Than to let them hear the trombones play,

The music and rhythm tickles me inside,

Especially when I’m marching with you in stride,

We’ll play “Stars and Stripes” as we begin,

And when we get to the park, where we end,

You can play “Fantasy” to show your skills,

While I get ready to give the audience thrills,

In case you’re wondering what I’m talking about,

I’ll explain it to you and erase all doubt,

I’m more than a musician, I’m also a clown,

I enjoy hearing laughter all around,

Music and laughter are both good for the soul,

If your foot starts tapping, I’ve met my goal,

And if you laugh with me, you’ve made my day,

That’s all I need, that will be my pay,

If I distract someone and see a happy face,

The whole world will seem like a better place,

Grab your trombones, cornets, or your reeds,

We’ll march across the highway into the weeds,

“To the ready, Mark Time, and Forward March”

A lively cadence but without all the starch,

If laughter and music is quicker in pace,

The world will seem like a better place,

So let’s go marching with our trombones,

We’ll be royalty without our thrones,

We’ll go to the park where we’ll slide but not swing,

We’ll laugh at ourselves, and enjoy everything.

Frozen in Ice (Part Two)


ballroom-style blues

He led her to his truck, and then quickly to a nearby motel,

Slow and easy he stirred her embers into a raging fire,

Filling her needs with practiced deeds, in ways she would never tell,

Then he said, “It’s time for you to go, though your body I still admire,”

For the first time since she had ventured to seek fun in the town,

Did she remember her husband and kids at home,

She wanted her normal life where peace and quiet were found,

“If only they will take me back, no longer will I roam,”

The consequences of her actions were terrible to comprehend,

It was too late to take back the wantonness she had displayed,

What could she say to justify herself? “Don’t worry, he’s just a friend,”

It was easier to blame her husband for the choices she had made,

It was then she began considering her husband’s reaction,

“He’s a good man, and he works hard to provide for us,

He just takes me for granted, and if he had paid any fraction

Of his time on romance, there wouldn’t be anything to discuss,”

“He’s the reason I was starved for attention and had to go out,”

Just thinking that made her angry all over again, “He doesn’t care,”

But her guilt was building up inside, filling her with pain and doubt,

“Will he take me back?  Will he know? How much should I share?”

David took her back to the dance, to see if her friend was there,

But she was gone, the place was closed, and Rhonda was quite upset,

From the shadows she heard a man’s voice, booming for all to hear,

“Rhonda, it looks like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet,”

That voice, she recognized it, it was a friend she knew from church,

“You’re not as good as you claimed to be,” he said with a sneer,

“I see you’ve been playing around, and left your husband in the lurch,

 But I won’t tell, if you share with me, I’ll even call you dear,”

He laughed again, a guttural laugh, and approached in the light,

She shrank back in horror, as her friend whispered her name,

Rhonda grabbed David’s arm, “Let’s go, before he wants to fight!”

But her real fear was everyone would hear, and all would know her shame,

(To Be Continued)

Frozen in Ice (Part One)


He was an avid hunter searching for conquests,

Hungry to gobble one more lonely heart,

Always busy, there was never a moment to rest,

Always looking for a new place to start,

David liked music and dancing, because the beat,

That rhythmic bass and pounding drum,

Always stirred the depths and raised the heat,

Across an unguarded heart his words would strum,

Resistance was futile after he made his move,

He would love a woman and leave her without any regret,

He enjoyed being deceitfully wicked and in a groove,

Positive there was no woman that he couldn’t get,

David said that to himself when he had time to reflect,

He thought any woman was self-centered to the core,

And each was thoroughly convinced she was a victim of neglect,

Tonight he’d lavish one with attention (she would want more),

He waited patiently while he idly listened to the band,

Perhaps tonight was not the night to find a lonely heart,

But two women entered and he was ready to play his hand,

One got up to greet a friend, which gave him a chance to start,

David sauntered over and casually asked the woman to dance,

She turned him down, but she gave herself no reason why,

She needed time to shake herself free of her circumstance,

Locked in a loveless marriage, she didn’t even want to try,

This was the first time since she’d married, to be out on the town,

She weakened while the music played, the temptation to dance was strong,

“You know your troubles won’t go away,” David said with a frown,

“You can dance your troubles away tonight, but to sit and worry is wrong,”

 He could sense Rhonda struggling, but ready to make a choice,

His compliments made her feel good and she liked his easy grin,

David had been patient, listening to the pain in her voice,

She quickly decided that tonight she was ready to feel again,

As they danced, her body moving with the beat,

She felt young and free, wishing this could always be,

She melded to him, stirred and excited by his heat,

Physically and emotionally she bonded, but not mentally,

“I shouldn’t be letting myself go like this,” she told herself twice,

“But this is fun.  It’s been so long since I’ve taken the time to dance,”

“He’s been really good to me and I think he’s really nice,

He loves me, I can feel it, and I’m ready to take a chance,”

 (To be continued)

Music of the Ages


An Altay shaman beating a gong. Music was one ...
Image via Wikipedia

Music Has Always Existed

The shaman shared his secrets in a cave,

Where no one dared enter, even the brave,

It was time for his wisdom to be passed down,

His chosen one had to have an ear for sound,

For rhythms were the lifeblood of his clan,

Without his approval rhythms were banned,

She waited patiently as herbs were mixed,

He stirred the drinks with seasoned sticks,

“Drink,” he ordered and gave her a cup,

“This will excite the spirits that I call up,”

She sipped it slowly , then drank it all down,

Her world began spinning round and round,

Yet she listened and never resisted,

He chanted, “Music has always existed,”

“In the beginning it was cool,

When humans started using tools,

Rock against rock and maybe by chance,

The rhythmic pounding induced a trance,”

And he added, “Strong emotions were stirred,

When good vibrations occurred,”

He held up the wand that stirred the drink,

 He chanted the spell that made the link,

Between the other world and the wand,

Invoking spirits from far beyond,

The shaman paused, “ With this magic stick,

 I can contact spirits, heal the sick,

And on a tree trunk I can beat,

And the music will enter my feet,

Now I’ll take two wands and start,

Tapping to the rhythm of your heart,

You’ll feel the beat stir deep inside,

Release the energy you can’t hide,

You will sway your hips and dance,

You’ll help two people find real romance,

Create with magic the will,

For us to care for each other still,

The bonds that unite will not come apart,

When joy brings love into your heart,

To all kinds of rhythms, open your mind,

Show respect and love and you will find,

You will be held in high esteem,

I’ll dance to your music and listen to your dreams,

But for now you’ll warm me with your fire,

I’ll invoke the spirits to stir your desire,

And the rhythms of love will fill the night,

Creating special magic until dawn’s first light,”

As the Shaman’s apprentice she blossomed and grew,

Learning all he taught her until she was confident and knew,

The rhythms of music that would keep peace in their clan,

She taught women to dance so each could please her own man,

Magic was in the drums, in the beat that was played,

The magic wands set the cadence with skills displayed,

And the tribe danced with happy feet,

Dancing to nature, enjoying the beat,

And the rhythms of love would fill the night,

Creating special magic until dawn’s first light.

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