Raining


The skies light up, not bolts,

But a reflection of the thunder.

The air is cool, the breeze picks up,

The sky bellows, the light fades.

You can feel it coming, you can smell the rain.

One thing you can do, you can wish it’d rain.

But don’t let ’em fool you – rain won’t wash away the pain.

But the tears that flow, might make you feel sane.

©2015

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Oammmm


Oh so true … Had to share this beautiful insight ❤

Erik S. Lehman

The irony is: impatience does nothing for goals and wishes; in fact, it actually … retards … quality … results…. A year is a day, with impatience at bay. A day is a year, when impatience is near. Oammmm 🙂

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A New Year of Romantic Musings


Awesome-sms-happy-new-year-2015

Here’s to the new year!! May it be full of beautiful moments, romantic interludes, and inspiring events!!

Imagining what might’ve been – Write Naked Part 4


Next installment of my NaNoWriMo 🙂

Part 1                      Part 2                      Part 3

“Damn, kept you up most of the night, after you got me drunk, had us a good meal and now a nice little beach walk to start, or finish the day, however we see fit,” she was smiling. “When’s the last time you had a weekend like this?” she asked.

“Darlin’, I’ve never had a weekend like this,” he mocked her.

“Whatever, smart ass,” she responded.

“Uh, I was being serious,” he shot back.

She ran towards the ocean tide and as soon as her feet got wet, she kicked the tide towards him, attempting to get him wet, laughing as loud as she could. God, he loved to hear her laugh. She kept trying to splash him, until finally he walked over to her and picked her up and carried her three feet back in. Upon letting her down, she asked, “Was that necessary, Travis?” still laughing.

“I’m afraid so, not sure what to expect from you, young lady!” he laughed at her back.

“It’s beautiful here, huh,” she asked him.

“Yes, it is, Lyla, very much so.”

They continued to walk on for about twenty minutes, not really saying much, just feeling each other’s presence, before turning around to head back to the car. As they got closer, she asked him, “I’m really tired – need a few hours of sleep. That okay with you?”

“Sure, baby. What you got in mind?” he asked back.

“I’ve got a little money stashed for this little trip, so I’d like us to get a room – that way we have some air-conditioning. I’m too damn old to be sleeping on the beach or in my car anymore,” she said. “That work for you?” she asked.

“Lyla, I am fine with us getting a room on two conditions,” he teased. “Number One – you have to let me pay. And Number Two – you have to promise to take advantage of me.” He was laughing at her now.

She looked at him and smiled that damn soul-melting smile of hers and started to giggle. “You, my friend, are a mess, and I’m not sure I can live with your conditions.”

“Take it or leave it,” he said. Though he was laughing, he meant it, and she could tell.

“I didn’t invite you so you could pay for stuff,” she continued, “I invited you because we have fun together.”

“I’m aware of that, Lyla. I’m offering and quite frankly, if truth be told Lyla Rochelle, I am expecting you to let me pay if I want to.”

“Ooooh, the middle name – am I being naughty?” she laughed even harder, teasing him. He smiled so hard at that, he couldn’t help but start cracking up and shaking his head. He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Not arguing with ya, sure, whatever,” she said, as she really was tired and starting to get very sleepy.

“You got a place in mind,” he asked her.

“Yep – Holiday Inn, not too far from here, I believe.” She led the way to the car.

“And by the way, woman, I like when you say naughty,” he said huskily. She looked over her shoulder at him, and gave him a playful glare.

They checked into the Holiday Inn, under his name and he paid. Though she tried to pay for the room, he insisted and presented his credit card to the clerk. They had a cooler, and a bag of snacks, as well as one small bag she brought to bring up to the room. She immediately pulled the bedspread and blanket down to the foot of one of the beds, and laid on the cool sheets. She was so sleepy. “Trav, thanks for getting the room. I told you I would, but that was so sweet of you to insist,” she murmured. “There might be a couple toothbrushes and some toothpaste in my little bag, not sure what else, maybe some ibuprofen. Look in there and see if you want. I’m so tired,” she yawned. “Travis?” she waited for him to respond.

“What Lyla?” he replied back.

“Thanks for coming . . .,” she whispered.

“Sure baby,” he said softly as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Getcha a few hours.”

She fell asleep quickly, since she had been up all night. He sat there and watched her sleep thinking about all the things he had missed over the years because he let her go, didn’t tell her, didn’t fight for her. He imagined what kind of life they might’ve had, the children they might’ve had, the love they might’ve had. He had been married four times, and none of them lasted. His longest relationship was twelve years. His past relationships, though he had many many happy memories from them all, had all ended badly.

The women cheated on him, lied to him, deceived him – betrayed him. But for some reason, he felt had he married her, she wouldn’t have done these things. He truly believed, while certainly not perfect, she would’ve honored their wedding vows. She told him she had never cheated on her husband, and he believed her – had no doubts to her honesty. He knew he could be wrong about her. He had been wrong about others before, but he just didn’t think so. And he knew there was a reason why she had always been the one that gnawed at the back of his mind.

He hadn’t slept much either, and all this deep thinking was making him tired. He lay on the other bed, facing her at first, then turned on his back. He closed his eyes and began to think about the past. When he first met her at the restaurant his cousin worked at and how beautiful he thought she was then. He felt affected by her from the start. He thought about all the drugs they used to do together as teenagers, but he knew that wasn’t the draw – just the times. He thought about the night he painted her toenails. The smile crept across his face slowly as he thought about that, and that was his last thought as he fell asleep.

*                                                 *                                               *                                                  *                                            *                                             *

She knew the tattoo shop opened at 4:00. The room they had gotten was about fifteen minutes from the shop. She was nervous, yet excited at the thought of doing something she had so wanted to do decades ago, but never did. That goldfish, she laughed to herself. She had resigned herself to the fact that she would never get a tattoo. She didn’t have anything specific in mind, and hoped the artist could draw her something she liked, or she might not get one. As usual, fence sitting . . .

She sat and drew a few things out, and considering she was not an artist by any means, the sketches of what she had in mind looked pretty good, something the tattoo artist might be able to work with. She still had no idea where she wanted to get this tattoo permanently placed on her body. She thought about her shoulder, but then she wouldn’t be able to see it. She wasn’t getting this for others, she wanted it for herself, and wanted to be able to easily see it, as well as maybe cover it up, if she so desired. She would talk to the artist about that, too, she supposed.

She looked over at Travis sleeping. He looked handsome lying there looking so vulnerable somehow. She loved his thick head of silvering hair. He looked so long on that bed – he was tall, much taller than her. She remembered when she first met him. In reality, they were both still so innocent in their youth – something they would not realize until many years later.

She thought about all the things he had told her about his past, his women, his life. Though her life had been far from perfect, and Travis had been to many exciting places and had some great memories, she knew he was missing having a family, kids that he knew, grandkids that he was involved with. The same things so many of us want in our lives. She hated that his life had turned out that way. He had always been kind to her, and she had always wanted only the best things for him. She cared deeply for him, always had. She had looked for him for years off and on, when she finally found him a little over a decade ago.

Sometimes she wouldn’t hear from him for a while and the number she had for him didn’t work. But sooner or later, he would always contact her again and she was always glad when he did. They had had an abundance of conversations over the years. They were kindred spirits in many ways, but when she met her husband, she had stopped thinking of Travis in a boyfriend kind of way. He hadn’t been calling her much during that time either, come to find out besides his mom being sick, he had been seeing some other girl and had gotten her pregnant. Lyla didn’t know about this until they had reconnected. When she realized the son he never knew was conceived when they were dating, she had to admit, it tarnished his shine just a tad. She wondered, but had no real idea that he was cheating on her. She wasn’t angry, as she wasn’t ready to have sex with him, so she understood him wanting to get it from somewhere – they were horny teenagers after all – but in light of some of the things he had shared with her, it was surprising he would do that. It just seems like he would’ve tried harder. Lyla did not understand guys sometimes.

Sitting here, knowing what she knew, and her marital situation being what it was, she wondered what it might’ve been like if her and Travis had dated longer and fell in real love, marriage type of love. What might it have been like to be Travis’ wife? She knew he adored her, as that had always been clear. He seemed to be a good provider, always having good jobs. Would he have been faithful to her? She wondered. He wasn’t when they dated, though they were only teenagers at the time and everything was so new and unknown. Is he the kind of man who could be happy with just one woman, knowing she was happy with and faithful to him. It didn’t seem like he had too many relationships like that. She wasn’t sure, as she watched his chest move slightly as he slumbered. She did know that he was good to her, kind, considerate, and caring. She enjoyed conversation with him, it was easy as hell for them to be flirtatious – and they both were occasionally, but never anything out of line, never anything that could be taken out of context. Well, not really.

He was starting to rouse; she nudged him a little, “Hey you ‘bout ready to start the next stage in our adventure,” she smiled at him. He opened and closed his eyes a few times, registering what he was seeing upon waking. He hadn’t been dreaming. She was here. He was with her. ‘Look at that smile, those eyes,’ he thought to himself, ‘and to think I might’ve woke up to this beautiful soul-pleasing sight every day of my life, had I been smarter, had I been braver, had I handled things differently.’ He smiled back at her, “Hey gorgeous,” he half whispered, “I am.”

[Part 5 – You Want To Make A Memory]

Memory – SoCS


socs-badge

 

My memory  . . . my memories . . . what a beautiful convoluted bittersweet poignant delightful intriguing tantalizing wonderful place to get lost for awhile ❤

I just hope that someday that’s not where I live, except as someone else’s – memory that is.

 

In response to the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt “Memory” – http://lindaghill.com/2014/10/31/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-november-114/

Once Upon a Time . . . OctPoWriMo


JournalOctPoWriMoBadgr

Once upon a time, she knew a boy

He was sweet, kind, and loving

And a little goofy, oh hell

They were young, and passionate

Trying to find their way through life

He decided he wanted her as his wife

To live & love, and totally share his life

But he didn’t tell her till it was too late

He just couldn’t believe his fate

But it was what it was

She had fallen in love with another man

To console himself, he threw her ring into the bay

And off he went, on his way

She never knew

They both spent their lives

Blissful and miserable, as it was

She thought she’d found her soulmate

A series of bad lovers, he was often discontent

Many decades they were estranged

But fate stepped in and brought them home

At this point they are just friends

But what the future brings

No one knows, though he has shared

They may have business unfinished

If she is ever free to explore the possibilities

A heady thought for her heart to know

In response to writing prompt – http://www.octpowrimo.com/2014/10/octpowrimo-poetry-prompt-day-16-once.html#comment-form_5711096840485173632

Dear Future


 

Dear Future,

I have no idea what you have in store for me.  Sometimes I am excited by the prospects and sometimes I am frightened by the chances. I could become a well-paid self-employed writer, then again if I don’t find a job soon I could lose my house and become homeless.  (Okay, that list could go on and on . . .)

Future, you seem to be so elusive, yet inspiring. So motivating, while at the same time uncertain. So nerve-racking, yet you make me feel so alive. Why oh why are you so unknown?

I look forward to more conversations as you continue to show yourself to me.

~ Sadie

This was written in response to The Daily Post:Writing101 writing prompt. I opened the book nearest to me to page 29 and the first word that caught my eye is the one I am to write a letter to. I am not enrolled in this session, so I didn’t have access to ping back there, but that’s okay because I enjoyed the prompt!

Autumn Leaves – Happy Fall!


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Sept 21 WordPress Daily Prompt: Autumn Leaves
Changing colors, dropping temperatures, pumpkin spice lattes: do these mainstays of Fall fill your heart with warmth — or with dread?

I enjoy all the seasons, but Autumn is my favorite season of all! I love when the temperatures begin to drop – the air becomes crisp in its feel and its smell. Often the humidity drops, along with the temperature. The days begin to slowly and subtly grow shorter. The leaves change color, providing a rainbow of reds, oranges, yellows, tans, purples, mixing in with the evergreens. Everything smells different, clean, earthy, fresh.

Windows are opened to air out the house and let the fresh cool air blow in after long hot summers. If cool enough, you can burn a fire – smelling the wood, and feeling the heat, and hearing the crackling and popping. You can smell your neighbors using their fireplaces – nothing like the smell of a wood-burning fire.

My favorite day is a day I can get up and put on a pair of blue jeans and a soft flannel shirt – my favorite attire if truth be told. 😉

Fall not only fills my heart with warmth, it typically rejuvenates me, kind of like a puppy let out during the first cold front! You know how they jump and frolic around, tails wagging, playing with whatever is available, just enjoying the moment? That would be me ☮

 

happy-fall-yall-invite-watermarked

I can’t wait!! 🙂

The Past is the Past


Sometimes through our memories and those that we share them with, the past feels alive again, and it can be exciting. After a while though, the fire burns down, and all that is left is the glowing embers of the memories, warm, cozy, and fuzzy around the edges. Through that set of rose-colored glasses, everything looks better than it was. Discovering new information about the past, the storylines in your head begin. You start rewriting scenarios, and what-ifing, what could have been, what might have been. Thoughts flash through your head that seem could have been plausible, but deep down, you know they probably weren’t. You get caught up in it for a time, but then you realize, it really is just sweet memories from the past. And the past is the past . . .

But what if some day it isn’t?

It’s A Shame We Aint Lovers


Something I have been working on . . .  Do you want to know what happens next? Let me know, please. 🙂

“Damn, I look smoking hot tonight,” she said to herself, as she is looking in the mirror getting ready to go out. At first, she smiles, then rethinks if that is a good thing. This is the first time she has seen him in decades and she knows what he will be thinking about. At least she’s pretty sure, from all the comments he has made and all the secrets he has shared.

They go to Galveston’s Mardi Gras celebration, enjoying a sumptuous meal. Afterwards they walked down the seawall for a bit and ended up at the Hot Spot, one of the local biker bars, where they were able to grab a table with friends on the roof to watch the parade festivities and enjoy a few drinks. She had a few more hurricanes, having had a couple at dinner. He had a couple more Grey Goose’s. They laughed and caught beads, and danced around and sang. Her friends were great fun and he was happy to have had the chance to spend some time getting to know them, and with her. He liked watching their interaction; it was obvious they were all close.

He’s not really sure how they got here this quickly, in his apartment. He had hoped they would end up here, hoped it would happen tonight, but he wasn’t sure it would happen, and certainly wasn’t banking on it – not even now as they stand there looking at each other. She is glancing around, curious about his tastes after never knowing him with his own place. The last time they spent time together in person, he was 16 & 17and still lived at home. They have talked on the phone plenty and chatted frequently, too, over the last decade and a half. But this is the first time they had actually seen each other since then. Well, there had been that one time he saw her, but she hadn’t seen him and had no idea he was there where she was – but that’s another tale.

She spots his stereo. “Can I put something on,” she asks. Already looking through his iPod before he could respond, she chooses a playlist she recognizes a few songs on. Songs he turned her on to a few years back. She puts the device in its cradle, hits the play button and adjusts the volume where they can hear it well, yet still talk over it without too much effort.

Hayes Carll starts playing – the song he told her makes him think of her every time he hears it – It’s A Shame We Aint Lovers. They discussed it once & agreed that song kind of told their story, at the time anyway. She laughs, “Loved this song ever since you turned me on to it!”

“Well woman, you definitely have a good memory,” he replied. “A bit surprised you remember that conversation.”

“Yeah, I remembered. Kinda hard to forget many of the things you have told me,” she says softly, almost whispering, “You can be quite charming, and your feelings for me & how you have expressed them over time have been quite surprising. I think you think you love me,” she says coyly.

“Do you now,” he whispered as he leans down to kiss her. Timidly she backs off a bit, yet doesn’t pull away.

She is wearing a white gauze button up shirt. Though they had stopped kissing at this point, while they are standing in front of the each other, he takes the opportunity to begin unbuttoning her blouse. She pulls back a little, with a look conveying she is not sure she is ready for this step in her new life. “I’m really nervous . . .”

“I know you are sweetheart,” he said, “As God is my witness, I do not want to do anything you are not comfortable with until you are comfortable.”

“I know you don’t. I know you respect me and care about me. I just don’t want you to think I am leading you on,” she said demurely.

He continues to unbutton the shell buttons keeping the flowy white gauze covering her. While he could feel her trembling a bit, she allowed him to continue. He could already tell she had a nice tan, natural not one of those store-bought ones. Her skin was soft, and a little sparkly right above her breasts and down her cleavage. He smiled at this – she had prepared to look nice regardless of the outcome. He liked this thought as it rolled around his brain.

Nothing was said as he unbuttoned the last button and pulled her blouse away a little showing her voluptuous curves. As her bra fastened in the front, this caught his attention, quickly followed by the lavender lace gracing the top of her breasts. As he ran his finger across the top of the bra, he looked at her. She looked nervous, unsure, but also had that hungry longing look in her piney green eyes of a woman who had not been touched, desired or loved in a while.

He grew braver, as she had not reached her hand up to stop him, nor voiced any objection. He wanted so badly to see her, touch her, hold her, have her as his own.  Slipping a few fingers inside the lace, he ran them right down to the clasp, and unhooked her bra. As it popped open, he leaned back a little to ensure a good view. He had never forgotten what her teenage body looked like and she had beautiful tits back then, and they were even more beautiful now with age – nice, full though fuller more to the outside, not huge, but definitely more than enough to fill his hand or his mouth. He slipped her blouse and bra straps off her shoulder, noticing the little dimples in her shoulder blades. He remembered those, too – he found them to be quite sexy.

As her blouse and bra slipped to the ground, she stepped back a few inches and so did he. He looked at her, her soft, brown, fairly firm yet curvy torso made him grin all the way across his face – no way she could miss that response.  He wanted to scoop up her tits and put his lips and tongue all over them, especially her small pink nipples. He wanted to bury his face into them and her.

He worked hard to contain his excitement and desire, as he did not want to scare her away. Though he had touched her beautiful tits and body before, he wanted to touch them again – and do more. He knew if he moved too fast, she might get headlights of fear in her eyes and bolt. He certainly understood – she had been married for over 37 years. Being with someone new for the first time after that long can be daunting at best, horrifying at worst depending on her mood and mindset, as well as levels of comfort and desire.

Her feelings about this were of utmost importance to him. He had waited too long to allow this to be something she might regret. He loved her. He had always loved her. Even when he wasn’t thinking about her over the years in the past, he knew he loved her. He had loved others, but there was always a little piece of his heart those women didn’t own – she did, she always had from the day he met her, and certainly once he got to know her and what she was about. He had begun wondering over the years if that’s why his other relationships never worked out, she was his soul mate.

“Wow woman – I believe I am speechless,” he said low and husky with that southern drawl of his, as he looked at her nude from the waist up. He truly lost his breath for a moment. He never imagined he would see her again like this. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to his big bed, and show her all the love he has held inside for her all these years. He wanted to do all the things he had dreamed of doing with her if he ever got the chance again.

But he didn’t dare. He just looked at her, as he reached and gently touched her arm, running his fingers down to hers. He could never remember feeling this warm before in his life. He thought he might spontaneously combust standing right there. But he knew he had to be patient, he had to take this slow. He had to let her set the pace. By now the next song that always reminded him of her was playing, Hayes Carll’s Beaumont.

To be continued . . . maybe . . . and thanks for the inspiration Hayes Carll!!

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© ~ Sadie ~ and Windchimes and Dreamcatchers, 2013-2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ~ Sadie ~ and Windchimes and Dreamcatchers with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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