A tiny little red neck nymph floating on the breeze, a pixie plotting whose pipes next to freeze. Mischief and mayhem embossed on business card, just below 'Howdy Pard.' To think you would step, on my lovely scene, I'd crush you like a bug, but I need my sole clean. I can see that you want me, that much is true, but sadly chick, I'm just to pretty for you ;p

Like an object drawn into a shining star
Gravity pulls and I relent
The light such a wonderful view from afar
will drained and energy spent

Words like a siren's song for a journey's start
vision from above, heaven sent
A melody born within a shinning heart
Sound soothing desires too long pent

There is a place you're welcome to go,
and listen to a song, that my heart only knows
Singing of tomorrow and forever more
A simple little song, it's you I adore

Listen for a minute, an hour or two
Just listen to a song, that's written for you
Days pass by but that song remains the same
Like whispers on the wind, calling out your name.

If your world turns to a dark cloudy day
Just listen to my song, I'll make it okay.
Here in my heart, I know this much is true
Just listen to my heart, it beats for you

coarse stubble caressing inviting silky thighs
warm breath washing over, from soft yearning sighs
lovely legs slowly parting, revealing longed for surprise
lower lip bitten, a feast for hungry eyes
first a nibble then a kiss
a long warm sigh, no I must resist
so much more in store, before I return to this
so much more to explore, with each hungry kiss.

A kiss on the lips, to close lovely eyes.

A warm soft caress, to soothe longing sighs.

A night together, a heart I adore.

A time to savor, in this evermore.

Goodnight my lovely, some dreams do come true.

In my nights slumber, I will dream of you.

Birds glide on cool streams of air, floating aloft free without care. A lovely brook, bubbling over rounded stones, rings one of natures most beautiful tones. A brook leads to gentle streams, glistening conveyances of shimmering dreams. Like the birds float on high, I feel my thoughts drift on by. Taken away by nature's enchanting song, drifting on streams that meander along. Lost in a mountain moment this day, happily letting it take me away.

Images

Yesterday's was a dream
Today's is just a hope
Tomorrow's will be truth

Fantasy, desire, love

Truth is never found on the first page.
Never understood until an age
True love exist as a final stage

Journey ends
Love begins




We

a little practice goes a long way



practice makes perfect?

A certainly lovely lady posted a blog about who saved whom regarding animals. It got me thinking. So, this rambling you can blame on TWL.

I hadn't considered it before, but while none of these were 'adopted' animals. They are all animals that have saved me.

Precious Pup, was a Shepard who has beaten and horrible neglected by his 'owners.' He came to live in the crawlspace under my house. He was terribly undersized. I say he was beaten, because he was terrified of people. If my father approached him, he would tuck tail and run. If my father managed to corner him he would snap out of desperation. Me not being the brightest child, and after hundreds of pseudo bites, I managed to get him to let me close without snapping, and eventually (much later) he would come out and play with the small boy, only hiding behind me when terrible people came round. He stopped running away. He was never destined to be a vicious guard dog, but he found his courage, and a certain undersized boy did as well.

This one we will call noisy bastard. A certain blue front parrot, who was the loudest damn thing on the planet. I was recovering from yet another heartache. I just wanted to lay quietly in my room and die. This sound would echo through the house. It was him shouting his name at the top of his lungs. 'I know your fn name! Shut up!' God I hated that sound. Eventually, I would cave in and go see why he was screaming. Without fail he just wanted attention and to have his head scratched. He would be standing on one foot. The other he was clumsily scratching his own head. So scratch the fn head he'll be quite, for about 20 minutes, and off he goes again. I finally surrendered and took to lying on the couch by his cage, at least the walk was shorter. Looking back all he wanted was attention, but he was the distraction that kept me from dwelling on my own pain.

Then comes a little grey haired darling. For years she went to bed when my wife and I did. It was a ritual. She would come to bed, 2hrs later you had to open the door and let her out, and 1hr after that you had to let her back in. Well, things are what they are. There came a time that for years that I sat up alone, while everyone else slept. House filled with all the things I loved all of them out of my reach. That has to be the most alone I have ever felt. My little grey fur ball changed her bed from the one I shared with my wife, to wherever I happened to be. If I was on the couch watching TV, she was curled up beside me. If I was at the computer, she was in my lap. If I went outside to smoke, she was sitting by the door waiting to see where to go next. Hard to be alone when you can't get away.

Four feet and some odd change, seventy pounds at best, skin wrinkled and falling off bones, she was the most beautiful creature I have ever known. I cannot with words capture her beauty. She was a magical being, whose presence alone could lift your spirits. However, she is here in my mind, and I feel the need to let you see.

A tiny child with tears falling, from big brown eyes, stream down his cheeks. This ear infection is bad, a pain beyond his comprehending. A hand sewn quilt, pieced together from scraps of old clothing, French knots dotting the surface, wraps him in its warmth, but he aches. The pain, why? Why does he hurt so much? Why won't it stop? A tiny hand, not much bigger than his own, wraps over his ear. Warmth seeps into his head and pain melts away. Large brown eyes close in an instant, and he is swept away. When his eyes open, the pain is gone. She called it wishcraft. If you wanted something badly enough, and wished hard enough, you could make it happen. She wished away the pain.

Years spent, just sitting with this frail creature, until the tiny hand she was holding was twice the size of her own. She would hold my hand for hours. I never understood why, and did not realize how much I would come to miss those days. She seemed fascinated with hands so large and soft. No matter what evils where upon me, my little beauty was always there, and I always had 'the nicest' hands. I can hear her voice cracking still, it is music to my ears. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the warmth that washed over when she was in the room.

The warmth was there, every day but one. Nine AM I am with her. She is in the hospital. She looks so tiny. So tired. When she sees me, she gets out of bed, and goes to sit in a chair. Taking the blanket from the bed, I try to wrap her as she once did me. Work beckons, so I only have a few hours to hold those magical hands. Gone was that sparkle that always greeted me. The warmth was missing. She was there with me, but she was missing. She was happy, but there was just something missing. I spent the remainder of the day striking every metal object in sight, and trying in vain to want and wish hard enough. She wouldn't make it through the night. I had a rather frenzied battle with a brick wall. Damn the fates, why couldn't I do it. She fixed me. Why couldn't I fix her? As I sat alone in the dark, hands battered and bleeding, a warmth washed over and a tiny cracking voice whispers 'you always had the nicest hands.' One last time she wished away the pain.