My kiss

How long have I waited
for a kiss to my heart?

How long had I settled
for lips pressing upon lips?
Watching lovers on celluloid
Empty wondering
Cursing the fiction and the fantasy
that precipitated yearnful dreams
Dreams that died a day at a time
to the mechanics of sex
Violation not volition

And then… Magic
A new path
A new dream
A new choice

Of yearning excitement
Toes tingling
Body pulsing
Finally a kiss
A real kiss
A kiss of the soul
A kiss that felt like home

How long had I waited
for a kiss to my heart.

There’s no such place as far away

photo by Lalo via Unsplash

Through choppy seas and misty winds
Take flight despite the drag on your wings
For the song of life is yours to sing

Though the path be dark
If you fail you face the shark
Yet of the skies you are the king

Defy the gail to paint the sky
The tides may change yet fly on high
Let the angels sing to the beat of your zing

In response to Sonya’s Three Line Tales: Week 148 challenge.

Title credit goes to Richard Bach. The picture reminded me of his book by the same name.


Climb the rocks, Swim the tides, Reach for the elusive beacon light;

Searching for something you may find, something you may never find;

At the bottom of your mind, in the depths of the sea, truth or a figment of memory;
Keep searching.

In response to Sonya’s The Three Line Tales, Week 134 challenge, based on the provided photo prompt.

Crank up the madness


Crank up your whining
drown out my thoughts
spare me no stillness to ponder my lot

Crank up your neediness
consume all my time
leave me no moments to feel my fatigue

Crank up your selfishness
decimate my self respect
no courage should I have to raise my head

Crank up the adrenaline
be the master of my life
Alas! there is glory in lording over the dead

Oh the seasons

In response to Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge, a humorous take on the seasons four…

Hot days are past
Winter is here
Frost Giants aren’t real
But sleet’s a real fear
We rake leaves no more
Instead we get to shovel snow

The lakes are filling
The flowers start to bloom
A burst of colour
No more winter gloom
But good days pass fast
and sun’s about to blast

Goodness gracious
Great ball of fire
Even without budging
I still do tire
Will all the perfumes of Arabia
not camouflage this odor of mine!

The trees are shedding
making a really pretty mess.
Too bad I cant say the same
about the shedding of my tress.
Tis the perfect season for my bones old.
Its not too hot, and its not too cold.