He tought, at least he heard her. She hummed in a whisper..."Hey
Sugar," ... there it is again.
Up until now she was a thought. And inquisitive moment now and then that
passed his mind.
Its rained for the better part of 100% today. Its taken a day to make metal
cold... through and through... and even the bones of those working out in
the elements.
He calls this change in weather a contrast and she sees it as a womans
perogative for change.
Afterall, Mother Nature is a woman and she also has the right to allow us
the opportunity to notice her new outfits in the Fall.
A man would whine at so many changes and so many mouths to feed.
A woman would always find a way to feed her babies.
A man would make a comfortable haven for his loved ones while a woman would see that all is fed and put down for the night.
A man would grin for his mate afterwards and the woman would smile from
inside comfortably.
Its our world and it's nature and passion and rain with a soothing and mellow
suggestion for the eveing.
"What would I do?" ... he asked this before her... 'What do you do indoors
with me?" he asked her again.
"Hey honey"...she smiled and he felt it...her eyes spoke silently.
It is the way of he and she. The tease and the underlying tenderness of two
good spirits trying to tingle the other while neither knows the others real
spiritual depth.
Its waiting for time.
"What pleasures you on a rainy cold day?" the words flew around corners and
exercized the empty spaces with warm currents.
"Its more than the thrill of a soft pillow or the warm moistness of the flesh...
its anticipation of an ease that is charmed with silence and the air
that comes alive in a single charge of passion. "He heard her words...
Susan,
You always make me think, umm, on a rainy day, I would light candles all over the house, chill some sinfully delicious wine, made an Italian dinner to the nines, and dress in silk and lace and seduce the hell out of my man...Now I have to find him first however..so it better not rain for a while..lol
I love your poem..
Peace, Love, and Light,
Amber "V"
...a passion play...on a rainy day. A puddle on each side of the rode...perhaps waiting for one to crossover...from what one might do...to what pleasures one...two ways of looking at it.
well done Susan...
John
Enjoyed this write, keeps the readers attention throughout! However, I have a hard time recalling the rainy days...we are in a severe drought here in the mountains of Kentucky...anxiously awaiting the rain day by day! Beautifully written!
Blessings,
Joyce B.
This was written very well Susan. It keeps the readers attention throughout...nicely done
Allen
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on October 6, 2007
She always tastes them before she spits them out. <---How did you know one of my chat up lines?
OMG I must be weird cos poems like this make me even more broody, i love the 2am wake up, special time call...
Thrill of a face on a pillow case, i kinda think is my ex yanky g/f's mission...
Your concluding line reflects a most excellent thought. We know nothing except for the feelings in our hearts. Basically what we can express is not what we are capable of or just a sign of the limited power of words that fail to express what we feel. These were words to dream on. Thank you for creating and sharing. Take care, precious Muse,
Hundreds of excerpts from the archives of the Narcissistic Abuse Study List regarding Pathological Narcissism, relationships with abusive narcissists, and the Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD).
Ron
Kathy
You always make me think, umm, on a rainy day, I would light candles all over the house, chill some sinfully delicious wine, made an Italian dinner to the nines, and dress in silk and lace and seduce the hell out of my man...Now I have to find him first however..so it better not rain for a while..lol
I love your poem..
Peace, Love, and Light,
Amber "V"
And you paint it extremely well!
i like the sexual connotation in the final line ...
well done Susan...
John
Love her........back!!
Walt
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Blessings,
Joyce B.
ET
nice work...
Art Sun...
Allen
OMG I must be weird cos poems like this make me even more broody, i love the 2am wake up, special time call...
Thrill of a face on a pillow case, i kinda think is my ex yanky g/f's mission...
Weird where ones poem takes yer...
U