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Unknown

50 shades of an afterwork surf

50 shades of an after work surf 

I returned home one night after a long day. I pulled up walked up the driveway, as I opened the door I caught a faint smell of lemon scent. I followed my nose as I entered the living room there she was laying on the couch. She was completely uncovered slim but with perfect curves she lay there silent. I approached and ran my hand her entire length from her tip to her tail she felt so smooth she had a cute dimple just near her tail caused from a large session the other night. I picked her up in my arms and wrapping her in a cover I carried her out the front to my car where I gently lay her down in the back. I began to drive filled with excitement at the thought of getting her wet. We arrived at the beach on sunset with the sky pink and the smell of the ocean I get out the car I strip off getting out of those work clothes still sweaty and a little musty from the long day I opened the back of the car there she was still wrapped in the cover I had put on her when we left I could just get a glimpse of her tail. I reach in and slowly slip the blanket off to reveal her perfect curves. I pick her up in my arms and carry her towards our place of destination.  The smell of the ocean mixed with her lemon scent has my heart racing in anticipation. We have arrived at our destination place. I can feel she's begging me to get her wet. I slam her down jumping ontop of her getting her all wet instantaneously. We go at it for over an hour having a great session as the sunsets in the background. Can't wait to go for another surf tomorrow will have to get more lemon scented board wax on my way home from work.... 
Nothing like a good set of curves and a little action after work!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2012
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Scher

Marvels of Migration Part 1 (Pt 2 is continuation)

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I have a place I long to be, Forty minutes from our home
Looking over ponds towards the neighbouring sea
I try to arrive, before sunrise, to wait and see the dawn.
Beyond waterfowl, whose cries announce, a new day has been born.
To watch the changing light, and kaleidoscopic sky
Royal spoonbills flying in the early morning sun
Honkings and quackings, Ducks and Swan fly by,
The glowing dawn fades, and this new day, has really begun


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It is known as Miranda, after a beached gun-boat, long ago
More famous now for Shore-birds, They may be seen, to come and go
It is the southern staging post, for Godwits, Knots and more
They've flown here in a single hop, From Alaska's foreign shore.
Where they go to nest, and raise their young, in a strange and alien land
They face there, many predators, eagles, owls, foxes and bear
Strange.., for down here, they have no such dangers to fear
Such is nature, and here I am, I ponder as I gaze in awe, and stand.


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The marvels of creation so long here concealed
Are being slowly studied, unravelled and revealed
We now know that the journey North is in two or three stages
It is according to the weather, the birds encounter on the way
But the reverse journey ,one hop, taking 5 to 7 days
The mysteries of migration are being studied
Radio transmitters, colour bands and other modern ways
The questions of their lifestyle, unfolding on each tide.


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The Northern arctic migrants spend the summer over here
Living on marine worms known as polychaetes,
Molluscs and bivalves probing with their bills
Some swishing side-ways and cleaning mud with a swill
They fatten over the summer putting on the weight
Getting ready for the return journey, awaiting a date
In March or Early April, when weather patterns suit
and in smallish numbers they gather and off they shoot.


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Often their first feeding stop is in the Yellow Sea,
China, Korea, North and South, they not fussy if they're "free"
Human politics are affecting the shorebirds feeding spots
In-filling and reclamation is drying up the nourishing posts
as these nations claim land masses from estuarine feeding grounds
So our Shore-Bird Centre has become famous on the world stage
With contacts in those regions, revealing what they've found
For if such development proceeds, the birds will surely go! (cont'd in Part 2)


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~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2012
About this poem:
Read the continuation to finish, as Part 2

for Further information on this fascinating subject. Read Godwits-Long haul Champions by Keith Woodley over 200 pages of facts, photos and a good read.
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cafetwo2010

Hard times

Life is tough..
I mean really, how much
can a human really endure?
I was cut off in traffic
at 7:00 am..
Stuck in traffic, a policeman
glanced over at me and stared
deeply into my eyes
I knew instantly that he knew
I had over due library books
from the fifth grade..
He yanked me out of my car
totally furious that a miserable
scoundrel like me was even
walking the streets..
He called for back up and a dozen
cops stormed the scene..
They ran a check on me and sure
enough my old elementary school
confirmed that I had in fact not
returned as many as 34 books..
I was rushed downtown and handcuffed
to five other hardened criminals
who also cursed the day of my birth..
One cop had to be restrained from
shooting me because one of the books I hadn't
returned was 'The Silly Duck Who Could,' and
he had searched for that book for his own
little girl..
Arriving at the jail I was thrown into
a damp cell where I could only see the
outline of a big fat man mumbling stuff
like, 'I'm gonna make you talk white boy..'
He had a big stick in his hand that had
thick nails sticking out..
I spit in his eye in total defiance saying,
'You slops will never get 'The Silly Duck
Who Could..'
Professionals were flown in from the east
and carved a piece of my ear off and made
a tomato sandwich out of it, but I was not
moved..
The CIA was called in a promised to beat the
living Duck out of me, but nay my dear friends,
I was not dismayed..
And in the midst of this terrible tale you may
be wondering from whence comes my strength..
Because..It's almost..
FRIDAY!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2012
About this poem:
LUV YA..
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Unknown

Witness.

Loneliness corrodes your insides,
I am drunk on your emotion,
heightening my senses,
to a love like illusion,
I long to comfort by touch,
but confuse you with desire,
I the intruder in your grief,
witness of your search for peace,
welcome your pain it is,
my old familiar friend.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2012
About this poem:
The empathy and isolation I felt for someone in pain.
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fjamesj9701

Ecliptic Silence

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Hopeful but its so mundane
Filling the hollowness with more empty pleasure
But it takes my hand and and walks me through this withering decay
Into the ecliptic silence,
Self medicated diluted dreams
A mixture of over stimulation and desensitizing me
Somewhere between ominous and beautiful
Letting the darkness consume my conscious brain
Until the sun can realign and pulls me back into this day
To overcome this strange numbness
Of self inflicted shadowing
Butterflies once warmed me up inside until I pulled off all their wings
Holding memories I cant forget while praying to a God who has forgot
But we are only allowed to keep the things that we have already lost
Sometimes living is not enough without sovereignty
As these flightless insects crawl back inside
Then perhaps through their death life would be more satisfied
Finger deep I draw a line then stand to face a blackened sky
I reevaluate Your presence now without You Lord then where am I
Because this is me You were my light, subsequently my faith has died
Somewhere below the surface of this shifting unstable world of mine
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
About this poem:
Lyric
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Earlgreytea

The Beggar…

Time is a blur…,
I’m driving home in rural Africa, nursing a very, very broken heart,
A Greek goddess called Diana is responsible,
I stop at a petrol station,
Suddenly, I became aware of a presence next to me,
I look up, a young African man, with both his hands out, in the traditional African manner, begging,
He’s dishevelled, dirty, poorly dressed,
He’s mumbling to himself incoherently,
Schizophrenic, borderline?
The sight of his plaintive condition, touches me,
Through my numbness, I feel the pain of his existence,
Yet, the sight is so common in this part of the world, I’m about to turn him away when I chance to look into his eyes,
What I see stuns me,
A childlike simplicity and yet, a powerful, burning intensity and on his face, a radiant smile,
The pain of it is too enormous for me to bear,
Through the fog, I wonder if I will ever, in this lifetime, have eyes as soft and beautiful as his,
or if my smile will ever speak with such resignation and humility as his,
A smile that has suffered a million set-backs and humiliations,
I look him in the eyes and say, "Hello, how are you?”
He looks right back at me and says, in a cosmic voice, that I know was not spoken by the young man, "I’m O.K."
In the resonance of that one phrase, was a spiritual message for me, that seemed as if it had forcefully been driven through the locus of all eternity, just for me,
A message that stated:-
“Though things look terribly unfair and painful at times, in the eternity of our evolution everything is fine, even though it is impossible for us mortals to comprehend why that is so.”
Right there and then, I realized I was talking with an angel who had come in the young man’s body to comfort me,
and, right there and then, I loved that young man,
I gave him all the money I had in my pocket at the time,
I was distraught, I felt a great sense of loss, that I could not do more,
I know my few hundred bucks probably did very little for that young man, but it helped me enormously,
It helped me to grieve for the loss of Diana, and for the innocence I lost several decades ago.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2012
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Unknown

RIPPLES OF CHANGE

May 2, 2012

Behind me, the echoes of days spent.
A lifetime of seconds, minutes...years.
I hold dear each moment of sweet joy,
paid for with struggles and countless tears.

Behind me, the failures and empty prayers,
which to me seemed to drift by unheard.
Yet answers came forth in other forms...
I learned to choose wisely every word.

Before me, a clean canvas awaits.
Colors, like paint, are choices we make.
The shape of desires unfolding;
manifesting with each breath I take.

Before me, the sum of all I am.
A face in the mirror I now CAN face.
The door is closed to the past, unlocked.
Forgiveness teaches the soul its grace.

Before you, a woman of passion,
holding love’s light as a sacred flame.
A bountiful heart calls through silence
and soon, I pray, I will know your name.

For you alone, a whispered promise;
win my heart, and my whole heart I’ll give,
that we may share this promise come true,
now, and through every day we both live.

Within us, the spark of endless joy,
that proves again love’s beautiful worth.
A bond untouched by ripple or change,
leaving us to our heaven on earth.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2012
About this poem:
I started this a couple of days ago and just finished it today, May 4th. This poem is definitely a reflection of all the things that have been on my mind the past few weeks. As we get older, we can't help looking back over our lives. Being forgiven becomes as much a part of being able to forgive in the course of healing. Looking outside ourselves, yet deeply inward, past the stuff we would rather not look at. I feel that all the work I've done on myself in recovery the past 22 years, has made me a better person, sure. But only now do I feel I am truly ready to love that one special man for the rest of my life. I just don't know his name yet. THANK YOU for taking the time to have a read.
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swade777

Schmaltzy, Saccharine Sweet...Dreams

Your gorgeous features within my dreams are cast,
as the winds of love climb like a sail upon my mast.
Two frustrated lovers floating both within a dream,
wishing to bring to life, dreamt moments so serene.

You, there in a very distant Country so very far away,
whilst I claim my home here in the West of the USA.
Chances are, we'll never have the privilege to actually meet,
so let's agree to dream of passion and love so very sweet.

When I awake, I slowly turn to face where you once were,
refusing to open wide my eyes, preferring that sleepy blur.
That blurry place between imagination and stark reality,
where still I feel and smell your body lying close to me.

When finally from that cozy blur, mind and heart detached,
I'm left a victim of robbery, my love from me was snatched.
Then it hits me like a ton of bricks and I only want to scream,
an overdose of Saccharine caused this sweet Schmaltzy dream!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2012
About this poem:
Well, MacDuff suggested a Schmaltzy, Saccharine Sweet poem, and this is the best I could come up with! Sorry ladies.... maybe I need some lessons in romance! I'm available for tutoring! ;-)
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lucy1777

The Irish Fisherman

Water,sand and the sea it is all a part of me
Irish to the core
Who could ask for more?
I don't lift my finger to sip my tea
I am a power-lifter don't you see?
Blunt and very tough
Around the edges a little rough
But when I pick up my pen
I can take you places you have never been
As I let my words flow
Your knowledge will surely grow!

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~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2012
About this poem:
I wrote this for a extremely talented fellow poet and friend Can any one guess who he is?
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Unknown

NOW!!!

Let’s listen to the silence – it’s important,
We lose so often great and special moments.
Just look at sky – it’s full of dreams and light,
And our lives – significant and bright.

Keep quiet and listen to new baby born,
And look at growing smiling happy corn,
And flying bird with little pretty wings,
And blowing wind and running river rings.

Its time to live – not time for tears, sorrows,
Its time to feel – right now and not tomorrow.
There is no past or future, there is present,
And we r all not lonely but – Together!!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2012
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