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Tuesday, March 20, 2018

POETRY -- I SAW A GIRL

Tuesday, March 20, 2018 0

I saw a girl...
Her hair the color of a sunset.
I saw a girl...
Her eyes like milky green sea glass.
I saw a girl...
Her nose as cute as a button.
I saw a girl...
Her smile warm and welcoming.
I saw a girl...
Her shoulders straight and strong. 
I saw a girl...
Her breasts full and waiting.
I saw a girl...
Her stomach lined with stories.
I saw a girl...
Her hips wide and ready.
I saw a girl...
Her legs long and shapely.
I saw a girl...
Her feet firmly planted on the ground.
I saw a girl...
and I call her WIFE and MOTHER.

Monday, March 19, 2018

Writing Prompts

Monday, March 19, 2018 0
  • Jenna sat in the taxi fidgeting with the hem of her gown and thinking I'd rather be at home in my flannel pajamas instead of going to...


Jenna sat in the taxi fidgeting with the hem of her leather skirt and thinking "I'd rather be at home in my flannel pajamas instead of going to 
club Sapphire. The hottest private members only BDSM club in New York. At least that is what Bess, my roommate (as well as my best friend in the world) has been repeating for the past three hours.

Bess is a sub who has been in a long-term relationship with her Dom Andrew for a year now. Andrew just joined forces with his two best friends Jake and Anton to open Sapphire six months ago, and already it is the place to be for the BDSM crowd. 

Stop worrying so much Jen, you'll have a great time. It's past time you crawled out of those pajamas and started living again Bess says as she gives my shoulder a squeeze. Bess is the polar opposite of me in pretty much every way. She is a tall, leggy blonde who loves to be the center of attention, I, on the other hand, am a short, curvy, auburn-haired introvert. We meet in high school and have been the best of friends ever since.

We moved to New York from Seattle a year and a half ago, Bess to pursue a career in modeling, and me, to follow my passion for cooking. It didn't take long for us both to land our dream jobs. Bess has had no shortage of modeling gigs, and I have a great job working for one of the best catering companies in the city. Life has been aces so far, but I can't help but feel a little jealous of what Bess and Andrew have. Their connection is electrifying. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever meet someone who makes my heart race from my chest at a simple touch of their hand.



Tuesday, May 20, 2014

I'm back!!

Tuesday, May 20, 2014 0

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Fall Inspiration!

Saturday, September 10, 2011 0
Oh how I LOVE Autumn...

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Inspiration...

Saturday, July 16, 2011 0

Thursday, July 14, 2011

RAIN

Thursday, July 14, 2011 0

Rain, rain, and more rain.
Falling from the sky, rain.
Heavy abounding tears from above.
Rain, rain and more rain.
Oh how I love to watch you fall, rain.
Soaking the earth in your dewy imperfection.
Rain, rain and more rain.
What a gentle comfort you are, rain.
Wrapping me in your tranquil embrace.
Rain, rain, and more rain.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Storytelling

Wednesday, July 13, 2011 0


Storytelling is the conveying of events in wordsimages and sounds, often by improvisation or embellishment. Stories or narratives have been shared in every culture as a means of entertainment, education, cultural preservation and in order to instill moral values. Crucial elements of stories and storytelling include plotcharacters and narrative point of view.
The earliest forms of storytelling were thought to have been primarily oral combined with gestures and expressions. In addition to being part of religious ritualrudimentary drawings scratched onto the walls of caves may have been forms of early storytelling for many of the ancient cultures. The Australian Aboriginal people painted symbols from stories on cave walls as a means of helping the storyteller remember the story. The story was then told using a combination of oral narrative, music, rock art and dance. Ephemeral media such as sand, leaves and the carved trunks of living trees have also been used to record stories in pictures or with writing.
With the advent of writing, the use of actual digit symbols to represent language, and the use of stable, portable media, stories were recorded, transcribed and shared over wide regions of the world. Stories have been carved, scratched, painted, printed or inked onto wood or bamboo, ivory and other bones, pottery, clay tablets, stone, palm-leaf books, skins (parchment), bark clothpaper, silk, canvas and other textiles, recorded on film, and stored electronically in digital form. Complex forms of tattooing may also represent stories, with information about genealogy, affiliation and social status.
Traditionally, oral stories were committed to memory and then passed from generation to generation. However, in Western, literate societies, written and televised media has largely surpassed this method of communicating local, family and cultural histories. Oral storytelling remains the dominant medium of learning in many countries with low literacy rates.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Inspired by a Photo..

Monday, July 11, 2011 0

Ptolemy Gray, King of the underworld, held the clockwork Princess in his bony clutches. Magically entombed in a grandfather clock the princess was unable to call for help. The forest animals looked on in sadness "something MUST be done!!" exclaimed the owl. If only we could get back to Ansonio and alert the Prince.

Time was running out for the clockwork Princess, soon she would be wed to Ptolemy Gray and would remain forever in the the bitter and gray underworld. A single icy tear ran down the Princess's face. Was all hope lost? Only time would tell...

Sunday, July 4, 2010

500 words one sentence...

Sunday, July 4, 2010 0
The Rules:

- Write 500 words - no more and no less - based on and including the sentence I will set each week.
Exactly 500 words … discipline is fun, people.

- The given sentence should be included in the 500 words unless I specifically say otherwise (like the second week where it was extremely long so I gave you the option), though the title - if any - should not be counted.

- I'll set the sentence on a Friday to give you the weekend to think about it.
Stories should be posted ready for inclusion in the following Thursday's Story Post.
Latecomers will be added at the bottom of the post and you can at any time go back and write a story based on an earlier sentence should you feel inspired to do so, which will then be added to that week's post.

- I am the law. No arguing.

Writing Exercise...

500 words based on one sentence...


She tried not to think to hard about her gift, because then she would think about how frustrating it was not to  know why people needed the things. --Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen.

Hannah is a witch.  She comes from a long line of witches known for their special gifts.  Hannah's gift is knowing what someone will need in the future, not a complete picture of what and where, just a snippet or a snapshot, a tiny fragment of a bigger picture. Hannah lives in a quaint thatched roof cottage she inherited from her grandmother. It's located on the outskirts of Bainbury, population 500 souls strong...

Hannah looks around at the sea of packing boxes the movers dropped off earlier that day. Memories come flooding back of Summers spent with her Nan collecting wild plants to help the good people of Bainbury. Dried bundles of herbs still hang from the wooden beams causing Hannah to blink back tears. It still doesn't seem real that Nan is gone. Hannah wipes her eyes and opens the nearest box. The sooner she gets settled, the better.

Placing the last empty box aside, Hannah takes a deep breath and stands brushing dust and bits of paper from her jeans. Glancing at her watch she realizes she missed lunch and was dangerously close to missing dinner also. Grabbing her purse she heads out the door in search of some groceries.

Bainbury is a small hamlet tucked away in the corner of nowhere. A single street runs through the town with shops and cottages sharing both sides. Growing up Hannah use to think of it as a place where Shakespeare could have found his inspiration. It's been a few years since Hannah has been to Bainbury. The last five years of Nan's life being spent closer to London with Hannah's mother.

Hannah sensed a feeling of tranquility wash over her as she parked her bicycle outside a little shop called "Emma's Imports".  A bell jingled from somewhere inside the store as Hannah pushed open the door. The sense of calm Hannah was feeling intensified and snapshots went racing through her mind like a photo album. A sterling silver cake knife, someone in the store needed a sterling silver cake knife.

This was Hannah's gift, knowing the exact thing people needed at the exact right time they needed it. She tried not to think to hard about her gift, because then she would think about how frustrating it was not to know why people needed the things.

A woman with fiery red hair came out from behind the counter to great Hannah. She looked to be about the same age as Hannah and was wearing a sundress with ballet flats. "Hi, can I help you?” I'm Emma and you must be Nan's granddaughter. Hannah wasn't surprised to hear Emma calling her grandmother Nan, to most residents of Bainbury she was their honorary grandmother.

"A sterling silver cake knife, you wouldn't by any chance need one would you??” It's always tricky to work people's needs into a conversation thinks Hannah. "A cake knife, no I don't think so” laughs Emma. Hannah glances around the store to make sure they are alone and it is indeed Emma who is in need of the cake knife. "Well you should definitely buy one; it will come in handy very soon" says Hannah with a wink.

To be continued…
 
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