An hour of leisure and soft memories As I lie in the bathtub with the bubbles tickling me Fragrance of lilac wafts through the air And the man that I love is standing right there
Down on his knees with a glint in his eyes His hands covered with soap and I hear a soft sigh Deep under the water his hands reach and find I tremble with pleasure and excitement inside
An hour of leisure, a night of romance My breasts barely covered with bubbles that dance His hands gently rubbing my skin til it’s clean My body all pink with a shimmery sheen
Delicious the feeling that hides deep inside Brought to the surface with soap and a sigh I reach out my arms and implore him for more As I pull him into my bath and quietly purr
I feel like a bird with a broken wing, trying to fly, but not succeeding. Each morning I awake, feeling refreshed, ready to take my chance at flight. But then the wind blows in the voices of doubt. I crawl back inside my nest, destined to be broken forever.
Have you ever been to blue city? It is located in the state of heartache and pain. To find it, just follow the trail of tears. The weather here is always cloudy, no sunshine in sight. People travel here often, some stay longer than others. Activities here include : frowning, crying, and sleeping. Once you visit, you will never want to come back. But, life sometimes sends you back. I recommend visiting the Sunshine State instead.
When the war first started, She made a promise she would keep, That every night she’d write him, Before she went to sleep.
So, every night she did just that, And gave him all the news, Her intent – to keep his spirits up, And keep him from the blues.
A typical letter read like this, “The kids are well, and so am I, The lemon tree has lemons now, I must make a lemon pie.”
But between the lines, her message said, “I love that little tree, Remember when you planted it? You said it was for me.”
“But in my heart of hearts, I knew, It was your love for lemon pie, And my first pie was disastrous, We laughed until we cried.”
“We had to eat it with a spoon, You even tried a straw, Remember how I threatened you If you ever told your Ma?”
“School is in full-swing now, George Junior made the team, He’s old enough and big enough, And tough enough, it seems.”
But between the lines, her message was, “Oh, honey, he’s so small, I should have told him no, I s’pose, He’s just a child, after all.”
“His heart was really set on this, I couldn’t turn him down, His helmet almost swallows him, But he treats it like a crown.”
“Carole’s on the Dean’s List, The third time in a row, Sweetheart, she’s so smart, She has your brains, you know.”
“And pretty, too, our little girl, You would be so proud, She lights up any room, And stands out in a crowd.”
But what she really wished to say Was somewhere between the lines, “I’m worried about our Carole, I think things aren’t so fine.”
“Her new boyfriend is too old for her, She cannot understand or see, That the world is her oyster now, And there’s more than one fish in the sea.”
“Oh, dear, if you were only here, It would help so much, A daughter needs a father, Sometimes a mother’s not enough.”
“Your mom called the other day, And asked us all for Sunday brunch, I plan to go.” “The kids won’t, though, They told me so up-front.”
“After a certain age, you know, Some family things become a chore, George Junior’s reached that age now, Hard to persuade him anymore.”
She dropped her pen; the words rushed out, “Oh, honey, it’s so tough … so hard, If you were here, he’d want to go, You’d play ball with him out in the yard.”
“Your mother doesn’t look too well, I think she needs us more, She began to age the day you left, The day you went to war.”
“Well, it’s late, dear, I must go, I guess that’s all that’s new, Take care – stay safe – write when you can, The kids and I love you.”
She felt a tear upon her cheek, As she laid down her pen, “I cannot say how much I miss you,” Between the lines was written then.
“I ache to have you hold me, I long for just your touch, The pain I feel is very real, I am missing you so much.”
She picked up her pen again, “Enclosed please find some snaps, Silly shots of the kids and me, I hope they’ll bring some laughs.”
You lift my spirit to the wind, each time you touch my soul Deep inside a yearning to finally become whole Each touch is like a teardrop, sliding down my cheek A comforting reminder of your love so very sweet
Take me to forever, hold me in your dreams Kiss my warm, soft lips and listen to me breathe Touch my neck with softness, hold me close at night Cover me with your body, in the soft moonlight
My eyes can see your yearning, I feel all your desire You know that I am yours to take, inside I feel a fire Your passion holds me in its grip, your love surrounds my soul Take me to forever, you know my love is yours
Today, upon a bus, I saw a girl with golden hair. and wished I was as fair. When suddenly she rose to leave, I saw her hobble down the aisle. She had one leg and wore a crutch. But as she passed, she gave a smile. Forgive me when I whine. I have 2 legs, the world is mine.
I stopped to buy some candy. The lad who sold it had such charm. I talked with him, he seemed so glad. If I were late, it’d do no harm. And as I left, he said to me, “I thank you, you’ve been so kind. It’s nice to talk with folks like you. You see,” he said, “I’m blind.” Forgive me when I whine. I have 2 eyes, the world is mine.
Later while walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes of blue. He stood and watched the others play. He did not know what to do. I stopped a moment and then I said, “Why don’t you join the others, dear?” He looked ahead without a word. And then I knew, he couldn’t hear. Forgive me when I whine. I have 2 ears, the world is mine.
With feet to take me where I’d go. With eyes to see the sunset’s glow. With ears to hear what I’d know. Forgive me when I whine. I am fortunate indeed, the world is mine.
There are times I feel bound The walls are closing in As the outside world Threatens my sanity Allowing myself to become prisoner To others expectations and needs The rope getting tighter I – struggling to breathe As the word, “No” becomes foreign to my lips And the word, “Yes” tastes of resentment My dreams slowly slipping away Bound so tight I can’t even attempt to grasp them Too busy living other peoples dreams To allow time for my own Mourning the loss of my companion-night And the sanctuary of a solitude-I no longer own I often pause and wonder Why I become a willing captive When I know it is only I Who can release these ropes that bind me
marnysensation.com 