Creamy trois – seven months later

(Part two: Creamy too – 100 words)

“Hey man, long time no see! What’s new with you?”

“Oh, you know. Finished college. I’m engaged.”

“Right on. Who’re you marrying?”

“Remember that ‘creamy’ chick?”

“No! So she didn’t impale you after all?”

“Oh yeah, she did. But after that she agreed to swap her collection of stuffed heads for a trailer.”

“So now you’re…”

“Getting hitched.”

_________________________________________
(For Joey. 🙂 )

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flames

Flame

there’s something purely distinct
about fire, isn’t there?
how it silkenly licks and caresses
its victim until
it no longer exists as it was
but it succumbs so gently
like a lover accepting
her very last kiss
unable to bring to memory
the one before

socsbadge2016-17

This poem was written in Stream of Consciousness. Click the link to join in the prompt, which this week is “mem”: https://lindaghill.com/2016/11/11/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-1216/

It was also prompted by the Daily Post. The word of the day, Flames.

melt

i arise with a sigh
leave you lying in bed
trip to the kitchen
start up the perc-drip
curl up on the sofa
knees to chest
sweet dreams of last night
of your breath on my lips
weight of your body
slip into heat-thoughts
and
coffee…
back to the kitchen
on a cloud of contentment
pour rich black pleasure
and my cup melts
with desire sips
may this morning
never end

No Trust

Lisa had been led to believe that when her ailing rich uncle finally passed away, she would receive a trust fund until she reached the age of twenty-five. Whether it was because he died before he had a chance to place a restriction on her inheritance, or he never meant to in the first place, would never be known. All Lisa DID know was that in the space of a day she’d gone from packing her work lunches in brown paper bags, to being able to quit her job and live in luxury.

Although walking away from the daily grind at the office was tempting, she decided not to. Instead, she kept her job and bought a house on the posh side of town. Right next door to Roland, the flashiest, most eligible bachelor within a hundred miles. In Lisa’s opinion, it was the only drawback of the whole deal.

Author’s note: Until October the 31st, I’m going to try to use this space to create possible beginnings for my 2016 NaNoWriMo project. In the tags below, you’ll see the genre I’m considering for the above story. Feedback is welcome.

Fire

It started and ended with a candle. If foresight had told me you’d burn down the house on my thirty-first birthday, would I have fallen for you that fateful night at Stella’s Steakhouse and Grill?

Just the fact that we ever got together was a miracle. My date–Lester? Leonard? I can never remember his name–and I were sitting by the window and you and whats-her-name were across the aisle. All through dinner I admired your profile in the candlelight. When you weren’t turning to gawk at me, that is. I recall feeling so sorry for her. She noticed the attraction between us. Lestard was oblivious.

It wasn’t until later that night as we walked along the boardwalk in the moonlight, hand-in-hand, that you told me you’d been on a blind date. I lied. The fact that I was engaged to a guy whose name escapes me tells me even now that you and I were meant to be. For whatever reason.

Author’s note: Until October the 31st, I’m going to try to use this space to create possible beginnings for my 2016 NaNoWriMo project. Feedback is welcome.

Promises

Promises in the dark
we’ll never fall in love
lasted months
but then
you had to go
because you know
promises must be kept.

Creation

Tired of waiting, for you
(whoever you are)
to come into my life,
I shall create you.

I will knit for you, a cape
(made of feathers)
to drape upon your shoulders,
to give you form.

I will dream for you, a castle
(with a dragon)
so that you may rescue me,
and kiss me awake.

I will sing for you, a song
(full of love)
to rouse you into dance,
so that you may hold me.

I will bake for you, a feast
(of drool-worthy delectables)
and get you drunk on wine,
and whisk you away.

Ah, but to knit, a cape
(castle, song, feast)
for a love such as yours,
is a labour of a lifetime

yet unfinished

dilemma

how to string together
the words to convey
how much i love you?

my goal
to linger like the fragrance a strawberry
you carry upon your breath all the day

my hope
to pervade your thoughts
much the same as
the ocean’s waves break relentlessly on the sand

my dilemma
to find a way to let you know
i exist

pretend – poetry

sure
we can pretend
that our differences
don’t really matter

that the drizzle outside
is just a wet blanket
like the one
that covers us
when we try to have fun

and
when we kiss goodnight
we’re not really going
to bed mad

but what good does it do
to make believe we’re happy

they say
love is hard
it’s work
but it has to be
worth working for

we loved
once

i still love you
mostly
but the grass
the drizzle falls on
seems greener
and you
are tired of seeing me
look out the window

Rain – a story in 22 words

Despite the rain
I will walk slowly by your side
because you’re holding my hand,
and I never want to let go.