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Sage Sweetwater bringing you the Upper Tier in lesbian erotica...
banjo strings in her jelly cupboard, whiskey in my canning jar, "A creek is superior to a sauna in its liberating influence, Vivienne," I coax, gazing at her from across the drop-leaf oak table, she's not paying any attention to me, she's mind-fucking her herb-drying rack above the hearth, "I'd really prefer you to be more painterly," she tells the sage, "I'm not gay," but she is speaking to me!
her herb drawings are schematic, diagrammatic for teaching purpose, she's disturbed that tomorrow's youth will never see a simple harvest, a haystack, or sleep in a barn,
raw passion attacks me, I want you whiskey fire in my pussy that is more painterly, I pour another, her girlfriend walks through the door, the one who has a burrow in the earth, she throws water over heated stones to vaporize (air) Viv,
fuck me, Viv, a hermit pagan lesbian (spirit) who connects to the Nines, the Nine of Pentacles, I am taking you to the straw inn, Viv, to the barn to retreat, B & B, original hardware punctuates the barn door built in the 18th century bed and barn,
her girlfriend's not paying any attention to me, she takes the sage from the herb-drying rack, "your eyes are bloodshot, sage," she is speaking to me! the ceiling's drying hooks let out their curve and go straight, the dried herbs fall on the wide-plank pine board floor, the ceiling's drying hooks put back in their lesbian curve and hang my alchemist lab coats,
Temperance, the tarot card and the straw floats on the water in Banjo Creek, the whiskey (fire) pours from the canning jar, the (water) flows, my foot in Banjo Creek, "I'd really prefer to be more gay," Vivienne says, she is speaking to me, my alchemist's lab coat floats, we go down Banjo Creek...ripples, tongue circling around the moss (earth), carving orgasm in the granite, natural rhythms, awake the banjo strings - silent from a year's nap - keeping her in the current...
clean the lenses of my binoculars, watch it...I am a voyeur...in time, she renews herself...neither time nor seasons can change my feelings, mezmerized by Banjo Creek, watching the water run over her, getting her rocks off...
I...
Copyright 2007 Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist
Evolving our Vision...Up The Creek With The Paddle!
http://www.AuthorsDen.com/adstorage/29292/lonesome_fiddle_blues.mid
THE BUCKSKIN SKIRT OAR TRAVELER
http://www.booksforchristians.com/bk_detail.asp?isbn=1420821601
FROM THE CONVENT TO THE RAWHIDE: THE SAGA OF SADIE CADE AND VI MONTANA
http://www.booksforchristians.com/bk_detail.asp?isbn=1425926339
Sage Sweetwater Profile Page on Nextcat.com

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| Reviewed by Chrissy McVay |
5/8/2007 |
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Delightful write!
Chrissy |
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| Reviewed by Butch Howard |
4/26/2007 |
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Wow, thanks for letting me watch, Sage! You know how to stir up the senses and pull on those banjo strings just right! You are turning me into a voyeur!
~Butch |
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| Reviewed by Taylor Ryan |
4/24/2007 |
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You know how to create a scene and bring characters screaming into life Sage.
xo Taylor |
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| Reviewed by Dale Clark |
4/24/2007 |
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I enjoyed this little trip down "Banjo Creek"
A great ride. ;) |
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| Reviewed by jude forese |
4/23/2007 |
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| banjo creek brings out the voyeur in all of us ... (and without the binoculars ;) |
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| Reviewed by Aberjhani |
4/23/2007 |
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BANJO CREEK: A powerfully metaphysical, metaphorical, and meta-amazing write!
Aberjhani |
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| Reviewed by Nicky Goodman |
4/23/2007 |
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| Hi Sage -love that Banjo boogie - the characters in this poem live, the banjo always reminds me of that ol' filum, you know...acoustic guitar, banjo, bridge, river - this is good wholesome poem, Empressed! :o) Nicky x |
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| Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado |
4/22/2007 |
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Excellent write, Sage; as always, very well done! BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D |
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| Reviewed by D Johnson |
4/22/2007 |
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I'm not the voyeristic type, but I there for every single moment. Well done!
Thanks,
Dan |
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| Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader) |
4/22/2007 |
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How much whiskey is in that canning jar, again?
That's so southern. Do you know how many bubbas carry around their canning jars?
Elizabeth |
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| Reviewed by Regis Auffray |
4/22/2007 |
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There is such "flavor" and substance to your poetry, Sage; thank you for sharing it. Love, peace, and blessings to you,
Regis |
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