Posted by: Chris | April 18, 2014

She Wore ……

She wore navy stockings, her feet in navy stilettos. Her navy mini-skirt hugged her hips and a form-fitting navy lady jacket showed off every delicious detail of her curvacious figure. The sheer cream coloured blouse was open enough that the tops of her more than ample mounds which nestled within the comfortable confines of the lace, blouse matching bra were bared for all to see, even from a distance. Her silky hair was piled ad-lib yet purposefully on top of her head with the odd curl draping down as if to kiss her shoulders. What would it look like if the clasp was loosed and it was allowed to cascade, to accentuate her neck?

Hy stood gazing out of the window of hys hotel room. From time to time hys eyes drawn to the large room in the building opposite then gliding back to the titanic jets as they lifted their noses to take flight or lowered wheels in preparation to land, yet they always returned to the room with the long oblong table where the beautiful woman sits. She seems at times to be daydreaming and it is at those times that her face takes on a peaceful almost virginal appearance.

Hy glances at hys watch noting that it is 8:30 and raises the mug of coffee to hys lips, drinking in a mouthful of the caramel coloured warmth yet in hys mind, tasting her. Hys eyes narrow as her hand runs painstakingly slow down the length of her leg. It appears as if she is settling her shoe back onto her foot and then, her head tilts up, and her eyes meet hys. She peers over her glasses and smiles a smile that lights hys day like a million stars light a night sky. Hy in turn tilts hys head in recognition.

Hys vision unwavering, hy watches as she stands and slowly strides over to the window saying a silent prayer that the sill joins the floor invisibly. The woman gracefully lifts her hand and places it flat upon the glass pane, hy blinks rapidly as hys cheek grows warm from her unfelt touch. She smiles almost wistfully, shakes her head and walks quickly towards the door. Had hy remained standing at the window, hy would have seen her turn to gaze out of the conference room window again.

Hy walks over to the small desk where hys laptop sits and opens the drawer taking out a sheet of plain, white paper. Hys fingers ease hys pen from hys pocket and hy writes. Folding the paper in half, hy stands and moves to the door of hys room, touching hys pocket to insure the key card is there and leaves. Making hys way quickly to the building within which hy saw her, hy steps into the waiting elevator and pushes the black button with the white 15 on it. As the doors slide silently open, Hy notices a young woman seated behind a desk. Hy inquires if she knows the woman in the navy business suit and when told with a smile that the woman is her boss, hy asks if it would be possible for her to deliver the note.

Having entrusted hys plea with the receptionist, hy turns and steps back into the elevator knowing hy has errands to attend to. Candles, finger foods, fine coffee and a single red rose which upon returning hy will lay on one of the pillows of the double-king sized bed. By the time hy walks out of the building opposite hys hotel, hys note has been delivered.

Hy runs to the small version of well known department store in the lobby of the hotel, making hys purchases and dashing for the elevator, sliding hys fingers through the narrow gap and causing the door to open again. Anxiously riding from floor to floor, tapping hys foot impatiently as the elevator stops to let others off, hy watches the digital counter as it slowly makes its way to hys floor and as soon as the door opens, walks to hys room.

Inside hys room, hy places the rose upon the pillow, arranges the finger foods on a plate and sets it on the coffee table. Carefully places the candles out, making sure two find their way into the bathroom then sets the coffee to brew. Hy fights the temptation to walk over to the window, opting to pace instead while running hys fingers through hys hair. Will she show up? If she does, will she still be clad in the navy skirt and jacket? Will she gently tap on the door or knock with the authority her bearing had shown hym she had.

Just as hy was beginning to think she had not gotten hys note, or worse yet had gotten it and crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the garbage, there was a knock at hys door. Hy ran hys tongue over hys teeth as hy ran hys hands through hys hair as hy strode to the door. Hys hand touched the handle, pressing down on it and letting the door swing slowly open. She smiled and spoke with the confidence of someone who was comfortable in her skin. She held out her hand. Dangling between her thumb and first two fingers which hy noticed were French manicured was hys hand-written note. “I believe you sent this to me”, she said in a soft German accent. Hy stood to one side so she could come into the room then silently closed the door behind them.

In response to:
This piece by Angelika Courtois

Posted by: Chris | April 17, 2014

Ponderings …

Sometimes I sit and other times I just sit and think. I have been thinking about how to write about this particular subject for a few days now and finally feel as though I can address it. To some, it may seem silly, to others, they may be able to relate, somehow. Perhaps it triggers something, or compels a coping mechanism. For me, it was both a maniacal waving of a red flag and a trigger … I think.

I am a member of several “lesbian” web communities. Some dedicated to the Butch-Femme dynamic, others for all lesbians, no matter how they or the social ladder classify them. This particular site, sends emails out and one I received the other day was worrying enough that I held on to it so I could write about it.

This woman is heterosexual, has never had a lesbian experience but admits to being curious. She says that she “really likes this woman but doesn’t know her well” but does know that she is a lesbian. She admits to stalking this woman via facebook and to being disappointed to find out she had a girlfriend. While there isn’t anything THAT strange about a heterosexual woman being curious, the admission to stalking is worrisome.

Why do I consider it to be worrying? Well she has now joined this lesbian website and states that she is looking “not necessarily for a relationship maybe just friends to start off with.” Perhaps it is just me, but if I was single and looking and I read a message from this woman who admits she stalked someone, I would be very hesitant.

Posted by: Chris | April 16, 2014

9 Word Poetry Challenge

fun, sparkling, glamorous, cap, kit, balloon(s), zoo, childlike, sunshine

Sunshine winks through my window.
I slither from under the covers
standing with the palms of my hands
resting upon the window sill
as I admire the dew drops
sparkling on the roses.

I have decided that today
will be a day for photography.
The rain of the shower,
the gentle roughness of the towel,
the comfort zone of favorite jeans
and a rugby shirt, kit and out the door.

What could be more fun
than catching people unaware.
Children beaming with pride
at their multi-coloured balloons,
couples strolling hand-in-hand,
families standing outside the gates of the zoo.

As I wander, camera in hand,
I glimpse things that others take for granted.
A reflection in a window,
a peanut as an Elephant’s trunk approaches it,
the childlike grin of the little boy
accepting an ice-cream from his father.

Then I spy her,
this distinguished, glamorous old woman
sitting on the bench with a bag of crumbs
feeding the little birds
gathered on the ground at her feet.
I smile as I have not smiled all day.

Turning my baseball cap
so the bill rests on the back of my neck,
I raise my camera
and holding the shutter down
take a hundred pictures in sequence
that will remind me of this day, forever.

Posted by: Chris | April 9, 2014

‘The First Time I loved Forever’

I feel an affinity to the theme song from Disney Studios movie ‘Beauty and the Beast’. I have even posted a piece here on this blog including it. I also knew about and had watched the TV series ‘Beauty and the Beast’ when I was younger and not that long ago related to the ‘beast’. Now, I know I am not a beast and while I know I cannot be considered handsome … I love who I am and how I got to where I am at this time in my life.

More than a couple, which is two and more than a few years ago I was introduced to a song via this very same youtube video by someone very special. Strange as it may seem, I knew nothing of the song but it took my breath away, gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes all at the same time. To be honest, I cannot remember if there was an occasion such as Birthday, Anniversary or Valentine’s Day that I was sent this. I only know that at the time, it meant so much to me and that it still does.

There are times like these when I wake up from a gentle slumber not knowing why and I go into my little office, boot up the computer and play the video again. It brings serenity to that time when I am unsettled. I draws me in and takes me “home”. It is said that home is where the heart is and this may very well be true. However, I remember something I said one day … “I find comfort in your closeness, sanctuary within your serenity and a home within your soul.” So I know where home is for me. It is both a mental and a physical place and it is truly wondrous.

Thank you isn’t enough.

Posted by: Chris | April 6, 2014

Angel in my Pocket

Every once in a while, our muse takes a step back to make room for an outside inspiration. This was the case with mine, when I read a poem she had penned and sought out … and found, something in the same vein. I was inspired instantly and I felt the words flow … slowly at first and then in a torrential rush.

To my muse, I dedicate this piece. Coincidentally, my muse is also my angel though she resides not within my pocket, but in my heart … within my very soul. My muse has been there in times of joy and pleasure and also in those times of sadness and intense agony. I certainly would be nothing without her.

Angel Pocket

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