The title for this story may sound strange to many but that is exactly what happened. The book wrote me, it used me to produce itself and now I sit feeling used, not abused, but definitely used with a hint of good sully.
Like a gentle, teasing raindrop on a new unfurling flower — petals innocent, never been touched nor caressed by nature, She uncurls, responding to one sensuous titillation at a time — coerced by the sensuous wetness of the massage.
Expressing her acceptance bit by bit; exposing her beauty, her gradient of…
There is the familiar nip in the air that the end of year is near; Though tropical, we experience a fall in mercury in this, our territory. As a reminder to pause and reflect on the months checked; how we would have lived, and treated each other and whether we made goals or didn’t even bother — just going with the flow and the winds as they blow.
Now, look ahead to answers — how to create more moments for peace, and happy experiences with friends and families; knowing that at the end of the day the new year would be upon us demanding a new way.
In a recent conversation with a colleague of mine, I was telling him about a book I had written. It was not for him to purchase a copy but was in answer to a query he had about what I do in my spare time.
Morning sends its greetings through quiet notes of the hallelujah chorus, Saluting the remaining stars littering dawn’s early sky, Sending a hello to planets visible to the naked eye, Bowing low to Queen Venus, second from the sun, named for love and beauty, Congratulating Saturn, god of agriculture, a planner with eyes on the…