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My Memories |
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For Carla: A soul, so gentle and kind, one who nutures yet asks not to be so nurtured. A woman, glorious in her heart, smiles freely given and wishes only to have smiles given in return. This woman covered in freckles, melting together in the heat of the golden summer sun., bares her heart, opens her arms and lets others in, many do not know how good she is, others who know seem to make sport. A keeper she is and while the sun blends her freckles, I am glad she is my friend. Even perhaps that others do not know what I know of her. I keep her though...safe in my heart. My arms always open to her. My life would be hers should she need it. She nurtures my mind, my soul, yes my tummy. Meals left for me in the late of night. Though she be gone or asleep. My comfort was on her mind. What is there then to say of such a woman? That she is a good woman? No, not nearly enough praise. She is a beauty, a smile radiant, eyes that tell the world what she thinks, her face reflective and clear-skinned. A woman that one should call friend, lover, mother. And when doing so take pride that she be part of their lives. That she walks with them, carries them in her heart. Gives of herself for them. For she chooses carefully this woman. and for one to be part of her life is a gift from her. A gift I am grateful for and cherish it. A space shared, so empty now....her leaving is so hard. Can it be that once again I will become used to alone? I think not. She is here still filling the space, but the space is silent, except in my heart. There the sound of her voice rings out clearly, gloriously, from laughter to tears. Small things, treasures hidden, seem to jump out at me, and although today they may hurt because her leaving is so new, there is yet a smile amongst the tears. Even in her absence she has found a way to comfort me. What is there then to say of such a woman? That she is my friend, that my life was much emptier before she came into it and now is truly richer that she is in it. And when the new pain of her leaving is subsided, I still have her friendship, though farther away, she is always in my heart. . Love Unsent Dearest, The sun is slowly melting away, brilliant orange, softening to pink, drifting into purple as it slips behind snow-capped mountains outside my window. As I sit, watching in awe the beauty of this, my mind wanders to the memory of your last visit to me. I see the smooth clear complexion, sparkling eyes, fill with mischief, then turning sultry as desire grows within you. Shapely brows, a deep fringe of lashes that brush my skin as we cuddle, your head on my shoulder. The sprinkling of freckles over your nose, the blush of your cheeks. All combined are a gift of beauty far greater in my heart than the one outside my window. For at this moment and always my heart is filled with you. I am again able to feel the fullness of your lips pressed to mine. Smell the enticing perfume that lingers in the air. I close my eyes and see you there before me, skin glowing golden in the candle light. My ears ringing with the echos of your cries of pleasure, the husky pleadings for more. I am always amazed at your desire, the eagerness with which you come to me. The sky darkens to the beautiful blue, deepens yet to ebony. One by one stars appear, each a kiss in the heavens. I try to count them, each a reminder to me of a kiss given to you. Placed upon passion bruised lips, on your nipples, erect, a deep rose color, my tongue gliding over them. Stars appear one at a time, kisses softly trailed down your spine. I catch my breath, feeling my desire for you again grow within me. The thrill again rushing over me at the memory of you in my arms. My heart is filled with music. I feel your rhythm inside of me, the music of our love, my heart swelling to near bursting at the memory of our lovemaking. Soft touches, as glancing as autumn leaves caught in a breeze. As we come together, our heat radiates out as the sun on a summer's afternoon enveloping us in passion. Your breast against mine, firm and ripe, the velvet texture of your skin under my hand. These memories combine to make the symphony now playing in my heart. As I write this, the candle burns low, shadows dancing over the walls of this now empty room. Yet in those shadows, I can see our reflections, a tangle of arms and legs, the shape of my own shadow moving down your body, yes they are all there, swirling in and out as the candle flickers. I sleep tonight my darling, replete in our love. The sandman slips quietly in, sprinkling me with the things that dreams are made of......memories of you. With all my love "Use the Links below to navigate my
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