Poetry and Stories by Dixie

Cooking With Curry
Winter Heat Wave
That Curry Magic
Another Tim-Role, Please...
Star-Dusted
Dream House
Listen Up, Hollywood!
Under the Curry Spell
Tim Traits

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Cooking With Curry

What's on the menu?
Some tasty cuisine,
Steamy and spicy
And fit for a queen.
Exotically-flavoured
And certain to please:
You can't resist nibbling
On tidbits like these...

So turn up the heat
While awaiting your turn,
But always remember:
--HOT CURRY can burn!

- By Dixie J. Whitted 1/15/97


Winter Heat Wave

Though the blizzard may ravage
And it's freezing outside,
The sled dogs are savage,
And our brass monkey died,
Shall I cringe in despair
And prepare for the end?
--Not while my VCR
Proves a life-saving friend...

I'll just pop in a tape
Of the hot Mr. Curry
(A "Titanic rape?")
And forget all my worry.
A tap-dancing Rooster
Or Wadsworth so charming
(I'm no muscle-booster
And Frank's so...disarming).

I'll be digging for treasure
While ship-cannons boom;
My absolute pleasure
Will heat up the room...
So bring on your zeroes
And dreaded wind-chill,
For Tim plays my "heroes"
With skin-scorching skill!!

- By Dixie J. Whitted 1/16/97


That Curry Magic

When those charming features light up the screen,
And his cultured tones enchant our ears,
How effortlessly he controls each scene
With skills enough for a dozen careers...
Lover,--or grim annihilator,--
Song-and-dance man with voice that cheers,
Face of a faun and soul of a satyr,
He illustrates all of our hopes and fears.

With light-hearted grace or menacing sneer,
Boyish-sweet smile or grin of a shark,
Disguised as Darkness, all fangs and leer;
We feel his hot breath in the dark...
"More Curry films!!" is our constant clamour;
No other actor can reach his mark,
For even his villains are girt with glamour
--And only Tim has that Elusive Spark!

- By Dixie J. Whitted 1/16/97


Another Tim-Role, Please...

Dishy, delicious,
For cooks in a hurry;
--Serve up a platter
Of steaming hot CURRY.

Our appetites sated
(Such pleasurable pain!),
Too long we have waited;
--We're hungry again!!

- By Dixie J. Whitted 1/20/97


Star-Dusted

Last night I dreamed
I heard a lovely
Haunting song
Through the mist,
...Surely I was kissed,
Tim's breath upon my beating heart,
Just an inch apart;
And I felt a joyous rapture.
He held me in his arms
As a willing capture
And I surrendered to his song...

I touched his hot, sweet skin;
He smelled of honey and sloe gin;
He kissed me with his pirate's grin
And then we melted into one...
Till the night was done
And the embers of our passion
Were scattered in the light
Of morning sun
Shattering the night...

He closed my dreaming eyes,
A kiss on each,
His mouth a breathing summer peach;
We drank our fill then, each to each,
A lover's luscious Paradise...
And I hear his song
Drifting through the days
That seem too long...
And trembling I recall
The honeyed nectar of his speech.

So I cannot rest
Till my head lies pillowed on his breast
Once more...
My Stardust dream of love,
Dark angel that I so adore.

- By Dixie J. Whitted 1/23/97


Dream House

A house on a hill
With rose-tangled arbor,
Aloes like bayonets
Guarding the gate,
A regal archway
Protecting its harbour;
A castle for Tim
When the hour is late.

A castle sans moat
Or patrolling sentry,
Spanish-tiled stucco
Alhambra-inspired;
Encircled by walls
That proclaim, "No Entry,"
A haven for Tim
When he comes home tired.

"Do Not Disturb"
And "Do Not Solicit,"--
A hard-working actor
Needs privacy...
So, please don't call
Or attempt to visit;
There's nobody home
But Tim
. . . and me.

- By Dixie J. Whitted 1/26/97


Listen Up, Hollywood!

A lackluster film
With a boring plot,
Cardboard characters
Talking rot
That insults our ears;
Our attention falters...
--Then TIM appears
And the whole scene alters.

With an eyebrow quirk
And a sly, dry style,
He makes it work
With a knowing smile,
And his mobile face
Makes his motives clear
With a poet's grace
(In his eye, a tear...)

"Terrific In Turkeys,"
He jauntily jokes,
But,--What is wrong
With this picture, folks?!
We CURRY fans
Are not amused
While his blazing talents
Go underused!!

Oh, when will
Hollywood realize
That its Greatest Star
Is the man we prize?

- By Dixie J. Whitted 1/28/97


Under the Curry Spell

A Legend grim,
A killer clown,
A singing pirate seeking gold;
Our magic Tim,
With smile or frown
Can make our hearts beat hot or cold.

With panther's pace
And stunning style,
He casts his spell in any guise;
His supple grace,
That slow, hot smile,
the burning beauty of his eyes...

Prince of darkness,
Child of light,
Changeling angel,
Dark and bright,
Charm our senses
For an hour;
--We surrender
To your power.

- By Dixie J. Whitted 2/1/97


Tim Traits

Those sultry flashes
From under his lashes
Or a roll of the eyes
To tantalize
In a "Why me, Lord?"
Look of mock surprise...

And lips that tease
In a hundred ways,
That taunt and haunt
Our nights and days.

The voice of honey
And poisoned pleasures
That sneers or caresses
Through all our dreams;
Not love nor money
Can buy these treasures,
But still his soul
In our vision gleams...

So we pay our money
And take our choice:
A pirate's bargain,
An alien's kiss,
And sly or sunny,
His glorious voice
--And all his talents
Add up to Bliss!!

- By Dixie J. Whitted 2/3/97


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