Samantha Beardon's Blog, page 47

Glimpses of you

I get glimpses of who you are

Makes me want to return from afar 

Your soul seems suffused in light

Like a moth to a flame it seems so right

Your warmth and sweetness 

Becomes my weakness

Drunk on the your nectar

Like a bee, I am a collector

The intenseness of our communication

Has made a scintillating  combination

The sound of your laugh, seems like fate

Arouses me,  a cicada calling  for a mate

An entomologist of feelings

Love-lust  unreeling

When captured in loves net

Will emotions grow and thrive yet?

Finding characteristics of  my soul mate

Are we destined to flirt, spoon and separate?

Sparking colour like a fire fly

Will love live or die?

Giving and recieving love

That all the love you have given

Will find it’s way back to you 

Is such an untruism

To expect it needs review

Love comes in many guises

We give in many ways

To think it can be balanced, comprises

A skewed view anyway

How can this  be positivity

It feels like a recipe for angst

Its really got my dander up, subjectivity

In a cinche, creating a schism in the heart

Love isn’t a bargaining thing!

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Buried Fantasies

Sharing buried fantasies

We eagerly find

Trialling our ecstasy    

Freeing our minds

 Sharing passion true

Colours our lives

 Expanding our view

 Excitement thrives

Whatever we can imagine 

Will become our feast 

Adding allure and attraction

To that ravening beast.

Flash Fiction. Paris

Flash fiction

“The first day of the rest of our lives, we have escaped our demons. Oh darling I didn’t think this day would ever come.” May hugs her lover Hugh as they alight from their taxi outside the hotel in Paris. 

“I know darling, we are going to have an amazing time. Let’s get into the hotel and get started on our honeymoon without the wedding!” 

“ What an idyllic spot Hugh,  a step from the river Seine, the Notre Dame in view ,such a romantic setting.”

The porter steps , and picks up the cases, leading the way through the marble and gilt foyer to the reception desk. He places the cases on the floor, nods at the couple and walks back to the front door. 

Hugh and May walk to the desk and the receptionist  said, “ Good afternoon and welcome to the hotel, could I take your name? “

“Hugh Winters.”

“Yes sir, a three night stay,  if you could fill in your details on this form and sign the bottom.”

“Your room is on the fourth floor sir, here are the keys, the porter will bring your luggage  up shortly.”

Hugh picks up the keys and wrapping his arm around May, they stroll to the lift. On reaching the room Hugh unlocks the door. “Just stay there May, give me your bag.” He disappears into the room, then reappears, grabs May around the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He staggers through the door and kicks it shut, then deposits a giggling May on the bed.

“ Idiot, don’t do your back in!” she splutters. “Oh look Hugh we have a balcony with a glimpse of the River and the Notre Dame. Look you can even see the gargoyles on the tower.” 

“Our honeymoon has started. Then our time to be totally together unfolds.Yes how fabulous and romantic, lets go out and get a clearer look, you first I will come behind you. “

“Oh Hugh its so beautiful, thank you for bringing me here. What are you doing?”

“Just picking you up, so I can cuddle every part of you, my lovely lady.”

“Mmmm I just so love you. Gosh I thought I saw that gargoyle flex its wings! It moved I am sure! ”

“Now that would be a miracle. Turn your head and kiss me darling.”

As May turns her head, Hugh gives a mighty heave with his arms and  May flies over the balcony. 

She screams summersaulting  as she falls into the street below, laying spread eagled on the cobbles of the side yard

“The first day of the rest of our lives,” he mutters as he turns and leaves the bedroom carrying May’s bag. He carefully makes his way down the back stairs and exits the hotel by the side door, hurrying into the crowd. 

This was written in response to a photo prompt and the challenge was to mix some genres.

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Swimming

Swimming today, getting some exercise,

Feeling smug, how could it be otherwise?

Dress in my costume, put on my clothes,

Pack a bag including swimming shoes.

Swimming shoes what an odd idea,

To help me swim better, oh no my dear,

The poolside is wet,  slippery like a rink,

Likely to fall on my arse, even with no drink.

In bare feet I slipped and nearly fell,

Going over backwards,would be just sheer hell,

Imagine the sound like a regular earthquake,

Bear in mind I am no small cupcake. 

So now my swimming outfit, is so sexily chic,

Till your eyes skim my legs and get to the feet,

Encased in natty blue neoprene very bright,

Maybe best viewed in the dark of the night.

As I saunter to the pool, my feet don’t slip,

They look particularly bizarre, I hope they might be hip,

Slipping into the pool, to begin my exercise,

Feeling smug, how could it be otherwise.

Unreasonable

Is it unreasonable, to hope that you will remember

The day that is special for me

Is it unreasonable, to hope you will remember

The date, when there is a marker event in your life

Eleven days before, and each year we discuss the coincidence

Hopes dashed yet again

Is it reasonable to conclude, that you are not interested

In events in my life, no empathy or concern

Is it reasonable to conclude, that you are not interested

In me, that professions of friendship are hollow goods

That perhaps we are acquaintances who pass the time of day

With no depth to our relationship than that of expedience

Is it unreasonable to be sad?

Meme. Love and Friendship

Meme. Roiling clouds

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Floating

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Surreal

Surreal the scene, within my dream

A place of ghastly horror

A figure hanging in the sky

A stark magician’s tower.

Surreal the scene, is this a dream?

This place of dark morbidity

Or am I banished far away

For becoming a liability.

Surreal the scene, I need to scream

No life within my view

Is this a place of spectres

With hatred dark to spew.

Surreal the scene, was that a scream?

The hanging figure twists

How did I get into this place 

 No skills, to deal with this.

Surreal the scene, stark, sinister, scheme

Then a searing band of light

From the tower emanates

Illuminating a portal wide.

Surreal the scene, whose diabolic scheme?

Is this a horror fantasy?

What do I trust, in this farago

I only have my vanity.

Surreal the scene, grey, drab, unforseen

It’s meaning for me scary

I need to travel forwards

Trust my instincts, find sanctuary.