There was a cottageSandstone chiseled
facing the sea
weathered by breezes
gentle to see
Each crease and crevice
fingers trace
touching time
hallowed embrace
It stood before
as it stands now
discreet in the ways
of home, of vow
As the solemn bell
a tone, a cottage holds
clear as the windswept
dune unfolds
Of joy and laughter
and crystal raised
in praise of vine
and culinary thyme
Of kisses shared
between unshod feet
as pleated skirts
waved on wooded heat
The moon would peek
from left to right
dimpled smiles
in reflected light
And eyes see
what fingers touch
maps of flesh
quartered and 'plored
shadowed and whored
"Lovely," said Em. "Just lovely."
"What?" asked Trev.
"I said just lovely."
"Yeah."
"Lovely."
"But?"
"Whored?"
"A figure of speech."
"Well, I hope that figure of speech will keep you warm, 'cause this 'lil whore ain't in the mood to per-form."
"What?"
"Nite."
"Em--"
"Ahh, don't let the wooded heat hit your arse on the way out."
9 comments:
Ms Storm,
I posted a comment on your Part II. For reading on 20 Feb :D
Tree, apologies for using here to pass a message to Ms Storm.
Saffy, you can use me anytime you like. :-D
Thanks Saff, response coming up there. :)
Poppet, 'tis so very, very good to see the story again. Which is not to say that I haven't loved every moment between and your awe-inspiring writing unconnected to the story, but like old friends returned home from a long journey, the joy at seeing them again was colossal. Just a hello would have had me however, but this was exceptional. It was fan*tastic. In regards to the end, seen before, astounding anew, how seamlessly the story continues though there has been a spell of absence, instantly enclosing within its particular, special brand of magic. And how clear the characters appear - it is really quite something, how a single sentence can manifest the appearance of a character. Several times, before any facts are given, there is presence. Classically beautiful is this poem, framed, harmonious, bright, brilliant rhythm chimes. Literary bliss. Can't stop (continue), I just fell in love with another (the poem above). Thankfully, the heart is endless and in reading, in visiting here at Decadent Tranquility, that endlessness is understood as more than abstract, as concrete fact, as it fills and fills and feels every word, every sentiment, every sadness, every joy, and with every one of those, though in the moment it seems to overflow, to be unrecoverable, the truth is because you write, because it is read, it grows, so that it can hold.
Thank you Ms Storm. Your comments are the life raft in my stormy sea. I too felt the flood of warmth at seeing Em and Trev again. Like old friends coming over for dinner. :-)
Trée, they is splendid, sensual, delicate and so harmonious….
The words jostle and print on your canvas ...all my senses are awake ...
Trée, thank's for all this beauty!
Vault of heaven,
Show me the path of beauty buried
Show me all the beauties of hearts asleep.
Orne me of all your colors,
Dress me with your green pastures.
Deposits on my language the honey of your bees
Let me taste all the fruit spread.
Invites me to endless caresses
Touching the curves blessed.
Let me breathe delicate savours
Offer me your secrets of spicy perfumes.
Let me hear your streams, your birds, the wind, the rustle of this flower in the sand, the waves licking the reefs.
Tighten me the hand and guides me across the wild regions and the lakes, the pastures, the mounts and the oceans….
Trée, c'est magnifique, sensuel, délicat et si harmonieux...
Les mots se bousculent et s'impriment sur votre toile . Tous mes sens sont en éveil...
Trée, merci pour toute cette beauté !
Voûte Céleste,
Montre-moi le chemin des splendeurs enfouïes,
Montre-moi toutes les beautés des coeurs endormis.
Orne-moi de toutes tes couleurs,
Habille-moi de tes verts pâturages.
Dépose sur ma langue le miel de tes abeilles
Fais-moi goûter tous les fruits répandus .
Invite-moi aux caresses infinies
Effleurer les courbes bénies.
Fais-moi respirer de délicates saveurs,
Offre-moi tes secrets de parfums épicés.
Fais-moi entendre tes ruisseaux, tes oiseaux, le vent, le frémissement de cette fleur dans le sable, les vagues léchant les récifs.
Tends-moi la main et guide-moi par delà les contrées sauvages et les lacs, les pâturages, les montagnes et les océans ....
Kisses!
Pierre, ton poème est magnifique. Je suis sans voix face à la sa beauté et sa grâce. Vous avez le coeur d'un poète et les mains de l'amateur et les lèvres d'une femme, rempli de passion. Je suis d'humilité et honoré que vous choisissez de partager. Hugs vous belles femme.
This prose, Trée, I owe you it with all that you awake in me, both in words and in the sense ... It's you whom I thank for this so delicate manner that you have to express yourself!;)
Cette prose, c'est à vous Trée que je la dois avec tout ce que vous éveillez en moi tant dans les mots que dans les sens ... C'est vous que je remercie pour cette manière délicate que vous possédez pour vous exprimer !;)
Pierre, vous êtes très gentil de le dire. Pourtant, le coeur bat à partir de à l'intérieur et à l'âme est comme un pays sans frontières, une langue sans l'attache de la langue. :-)
Trée you are right!
The heart beats inside each person and the soul does not have borders.
Still is necessary it to know to hear, listen to, look at and feel the soul and the heart of the others to enjoy intimate contours of them.;)
Trée, Vous avez raison ! Le coeur bat à l'intérieur de chaque personne et l'âme n'a pas de frontières.
Encore faut-il savoir entendre, écouter, regarder et ressentir l'âme et le coeur des autres pour en savourer les contours les plus intimes. ;)
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