pink saturday, PoefusionMondayMural


cherry blossom Pictures, Images and Photos
michelle’s poefusion monday mural
beverly’s pink saturday
photo: ainsleyanne, photobucket

observing the quarter moon rise against the luminous black night she cannot help but to open a window and breathe in the fleeting fragrance of rescued salvation.

soon to arrive, she arranged the screen in a specific light to optimize the essence of his perception.  a cover to clothe a place hidden from his everyday senses. aware of his quiet clean reserve a wish is freely painted on the canvas of his attention. something special separating now and then and discloses just a hint of what lies within. the absolute sanctum where one can find mystery and explore the timelessness of discovery. 

gifted by his presence, she recognizes a desire to rest in whispering silence. with prudent little movement she removes his cloak and draws him to follow. thanking the invisible one, she turns internal touching a lost treasure recently released she smiles in small serenity.

etched eternal on the slate of spirit, the delicate drift of candlelight suggests a subtle melodius movement caressing the intangible air of delight and dreams.

soft pink screen
sense solitude stirring
enchanting existence

engaging impressions
speaking sight sensation
confidential companion

yield tender tegument
defined infinity
one slice serving



his girth
orchestrated in
metaphysical motion
drifting from his side
to my side
manifesting magic
in a continuous conversation
always near
rarely far
a most wonderful life
snoozin’ we sit
discussing docile dogmas
nothin’ but neutrality
placed in perfect order
rubbin’ shoulders
occassionally we overlap
** ** ** ** **
weekend wordsmith: chimera
Miss Chicken, flickr
for those who are interested, the real story … The Walrus and the Carpenter, Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll

3WW, 6S

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,

clearly seen from the backseat of the old blue chevy the movie was going to be something i was not going to remember. thankful for salty buttered popcorn and coveted condoms we decided to enjoy the evening stars and serenading moon in the fully clothed fury of our youth. the passing poster had advertised something about an old southern family written by faulkner who somehow knew the intimate details of life gone wrong in the illusion of walking shadows grasping for breath. briefly distracted from the hands and eyes that began to wander to the intimate softness of my delicate ingenue, i was suddenly aware; quickly realizing he had shifted into overdrive and soon the show would be over before i ate my portion. too soon for him and too late for me, innocent guilt reflected on our inexperienced faces as we tried to smile the disappointment away. recovering quickly we separated to own thoughts and watched benjy’s silence in the dimness of a faraway first night’s experience.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
three word wednesday, this week’s offer: fury, guilt, thankful; six sentences
photo: Maureen Bond, flickr

totally optional prompts

shifting seasons

barefoot butterfly blues
simmering sunshine
approaching autumn witness

enchanted enticing
drawn to the day
rest in a womb of stillness
under the old oak tree
finding lost

raging yellow, burnt orange
bright red, barely green
cascading leaves
tiny trailing traces
sleepy distracted tree
crunching carpet

open a book
turn a page
read a line
find a way
previously unknown

denying the dark
opening a locked door
slices of smoked cheese
and red merlot wine

sharing with no one in particular
surrounded by caring friends
the world turns slowly
between the hours of
dusk and dawn
* * * * * * * * * * *
Totally Optional Promps (TOPS) this week: discoveries
photo: The Road Less Travelled, justpedalhard, flickr



a surprise encounter, unexpected convergence at street level. stopping and saying hello. hello, yes, thank you, you too. of course, you look divine and tasty. purposely softening my voice. i’d almost confess the truth, without hesitation, clutching you close with a grasp of your dark tie. you are conversant with foreign languages, and could hear my heart’s miniature murmur in small gestures one hardly notices. adept at all genuflection, we play a quick game of cat and mouse, our feet barely touching. just enough to begin an end. a friendly intimate parting on the street without a kiss. taking a cab for another destination i was already on my way when you called.

i was looking forward to attending the outdoor concert. it was a beautiful evening the end of summer just a hint of cool evenings ahead.

sitting on the beach
feeling the ocean breeze
a thousand places ago
touching me
here again.
* * * * * * *
photo: Night StreetWheelman2007, flickr