Love

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How could sips from a glass change the way they felt
holding eye contact, longer than a passing glance
The wine chilled, the heat between them obvious
he with lashes longer than hers
her eyes more emerald than the gem itself

The attraction of first love
one without the other could disappear
and letting go too hard to bare
How we lose ourselves in romance
standing alone, the other gives us strength
so intense in what they feel

Let that feeling remain throughout the years
a blanket that is wrapped around
till only one heart beat is heard
As their fingertips touch cottoned sheets
bringing memories of first meeting
and their kiss goodnight.

Copyright JMTacken 31.12.2014

Happy Valentines Day

Last the night the conversation between Mr. S and I –

Me: “Oh hell I didn’t get you a card.”

Mr. S “We don’t normally celebrate it – do we”?

Me: “No we don’t, oh well, we’re out tonight”

Mr. S “Yup that we are”.

Was asleep when he left for work this morning, feeling so low the last couple of days. Sitting in my P.J’s at 2:15 pm… not like me.

Door bell – “Hello- Madam – anyone there”?

Me: “Oh yes, sorry I’m in my pyjamas, not feeling well”. (I had to have some excuse)

Driver:  “Someone’s a lucky girl – Happy Valentines madam”.

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with a card saying … just because you’re you….Love S

So now I have tears..but they are happy tears. I love you too Mr. S and you brightened my day and my world.

Happy Valentines Day to everyone.

Say you love me (Prose)

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as for words sometimes spoken
that make us think
why others speak them, take
three syllables
we long to hear, sealing anxious
weeks or months after we ceased
being a singular I

the anticipation of who will
speak first, should I, should they

I love you
why, I ask what makes you love me
because I’m kindhearted
smile at strangers, a good hostess
in and out of bed, love all creatures
great and small, or perhaps my humour
that can turn your furrowed brow
into whipped cream smoothness

Is it any of these things or these and more
we wait, it’s said, what we started
pure and raw, now concreted with three simple words
and it’s not perhaps till time has passed

when we have grown old together
we look back and it wasn’t about who spoke first
that we see love for what it is
the importance of why it was said
no longer just syllables

©jmtacken Feb 2014

My 760th Post.

Photo Credit etsy.com

One,Ein,Un,Uno,Een,Um….First (Prose)

the first time I made love/erm
NO hell ~ not love
Sex~young/disjointed hmmm kisses ~ yes
you will love me afterwards???
~ who was I kidding
behind the shelter sheds/- a teenager
that’s all I’ll say/ I won’t reveal my age

the first time I hitchhiked ? dangerous~
NO WAY
girlfriend and I thumbs up to the sky
travelled far that day
Until a ‘coupla’ lads ~ deviated behind some trees
tried to/Well you know – we were just kids~
we escaped and ran away

the first time I left home?
Yes there was more than one time
I thought that I could make it on my own
bah-boom ~ only to return

the first time I drove a CAr ~ red it was
the colour hot & fast
I drove up to our hills not far from here
and just ~ well sat

the first time I was MArried – no it’s
only been the once ~ it lasted 19 years
gave me my girls~ made me a mum

the first time I gave birth/ ARGH!
you must be KIDDING me ~ give me an epidural
can’t you see the pain I’m in??

the first time I fell really in LOve
many many times-
Ech/ Lust or love hmm scratches
head – CRap too many rhymes

the first time I found my soul mate
yep Mr. S you know him by
my rock~ my everlasting
hmm his kisses in the night

the first time I sold a book/OK
so it’s not the paper kind
~ the SP type electronic
but it simply blew my mind

the first time I started ‘blogging’
I still HAte that word so much
scared of what would be said
now I’m **ADDIC-A-TED**

the first time I conducted a Service
for the bereaved family
/I knew I found my calling
my life mapped out for me

First times that I have had a broken heart – a blade twisting in my gut
First times of shedding tears over loving WAY too much
First times for knowing my life was going to change
First times of seeing my elderly parents – knowing nothing would be the same

Many many 1st times – some good & not this is for MLM’s Prompt simply about Firsts.

http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com

Who are you? (Prose)

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I am me
I am the rain torrents in winter
The summer drops upon the ground
I am the autumn leaves of colour
New blossoms in the spring

I am strong ~ the noise of thunder
I am darkness
I am light
I am impatient
Determined
I am strong willed at times

I am caring and forgiving
I do not suffer fools
Or those friendships that aren’t real
I am an artist
I am a mother

I am intuitive
I am open
I love to love
I hate to hate

I love
I cry
I laugh
I empathise
I am a drama queen

I’m a speaker and a listener
Land on my feet ~ most of the time
I am a writer and would be poet
I have an imaginary mind

I am an animal lover
I have an addictive nature
I am a traveller
I am me

the particles, the cells

the good, the bad

the pretty and the ugly

I love that I am living

I am young though I am not

I love holding hands and making love

I can make people laugh or cry

I love watching movies that make me weep

I love watching new born foals take their first new steps

I love to sip red wine and converse with my old friends

I love that I can help those that are in need

I love my daughters with every breath

I love with all my heart, my gorgeous mum and dad

I am who I am

I am plain and simply

ME

So who are you?

©jmtacken Dec 2013

Photo Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

Feather light and lace – Prose romance

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Feather light lace ~ you know not
that I watch breathless, as you ascend
the stairs, angel alighting heaven bound
graceful in your heart;  graceful in step
I watch you floating and am reminded of a
thousand violins playing on a summers eve

layers that you hold,  reflect layers of yourself
angelically you climb one by one, your doubt
and indecision held within your breast, tell me
can I comfort you and say that you’ll be safe
oh, how I wish my arms around you to
allay the fears you have

feather light lace ~ your confusion it is
warranted for one heart should only love one
other and you have captured mine, I pray
that you look back and notice me
for I’m the one you swore to love
my heart seduced and stolen

my sobs are left unheard as if they never
were, pray keep the thoughts of us within you
know that I would please you, more than what
another could; choose and choose you must
but none does think you fairer; none would
lay their life as I, for feather light and lace

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I shall try and put in the title what I am writing about, so everyone has the chance to not read if it isn’t ‘their thing’.

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Liptember Women’s Mental Health Campaign. I wish to thank those who have already donated to this worthy cause. Please forgive me,  but I shall post the links on each post, for those that would still like to contribute.

https://www.liptember.com.au/kayla.tacken    – my daughter.

If your sponsors donate directly to the charity from overseas please use the details above , they can make a direct donation via bank deposit and notify us by email info@liptember.com.au so we can issue them a receipt. We would then credit these donations to your profile.

Liptember Foundation
Commonwealth Bank of Australia
BSB: 062 000
Acc no: 1390 1111

Souls of the night

the call of distant pipes listen
can you hear the mandolin gentle strum
its melody drifting to the fire, we watch
as moon light splinters the clouds
and bounces onto golden flames

love circled by young hearts
the gentle rustling of leaves on boughs
natures perfume drifts as darkness
enfolds the woods, this summers eve
shadowing the castle walls 

a raven calls as black as night, wings in flight
venturing across the skies, you play to me
sparks soar merging with the fire-flies
my heart softened by the sound
by earth itself

trembling hands we reach, as shooting stars
take their journey, lowered head I blush
for love that is divine, untarnished
gathered skirts, I clasp your hand in mine
giving of our love, the only sounds I hear
is your love for me, the pipes and mandolin

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Written whilst listening to Loreena

Unfaithful

I’m sure if I stared hard enough
passed Klein pin stripes
and ironed shirt
buttons peeled, the tie removed
a part – minute
infinitesimal in fact
gives a damn, some remorse
you were a cat on heat
you strayed

I
shudder

insignificant mumblings
spilled from a soiled mouth
that has been plunged
by her tongue
spitting out apologies
her lips not sweet as mine
gullible me
you hoped

I
laugh

in your chest
chambers, ventricles
the muscle
pumping blood maintains
a continuous beat
allows you to draw breath
together with wetted
lungs, yet your
emotions had run dry
for us

I
wonder

was there a forever after
as we walked hand in hand
‘I love you’ thrown my way
to satiate my insecurity
but you required more
lust over love, afternoon delights
of tasting
a different skin – a different salt
tired of the old – in with the new

I
cringe

take your pathetic and your
meaningless excuses
of a night
where booze imprisoned
your thoughts of me
unrealistic expectations
what you thought you needed
as you rode high on this harlot
of your dreams
it was only the once…?

 

goodbye


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Purely Fiction!

Friendship turning into love

As you may or may not know I met my man the secretive Mr. S  (well only secretive because I call him Mr. S and not by his name) on an internet date site, here in Australia. Some sites are reputable, others are shams.  Fortunately the one that we used was reputable. Yesterday we celebrated 5 years today of knowing each other and sharing our lives. I had written a post some time back about Internet dating on-line-dating-its-not-just-for-the-desperate  but after celebrating our fifth year, I thought I would revisit.

This post however is more about how we met and how life can change if you step outside of the box in a not so conventional way to try and meet someone. When we first met on line,  we emailed and chatted back and forth (on the computer) for many weeks every night, we then plucked up the courage for phone calls, again a few weeks, every night, we would talk for hours and I mean hours. We also reached a point with these phone calls where we did the “You hang up…no you hang up” scenario.  Strange you may say for a woman who was 52 years of age.

I had only seen one photo of him, on the dating site, I only heard his voice, or read what he was like when we emailed or chatted on line.  Trying to gauge a person without physically seeing them can be daunting, but I had to have faith in my intuition by his down to earth nature and humour,  that if nothing else I had found a friend. When we decided to meet it was a strange feeling, number one as I had never gone out with a bald man before (or nearly bald I should say) and number two, what if he wasn’t who I thought he was? The doubts came into play and some uneasiness. I had arranged the ‘phone call’ (from daughter # 2) to phone about an hour into our meeting just to check that everything was going smoothly. In the end though I put faith in my gut instinct that all would be well. We met in a public lounge in a large Hotel Foyer, plenty of people, plenty of noise for distraction if required.

If anyone is contemplating meeting someone off the Internet, this is a priority, do not meet them at their home or in a venue that you would not feel safe in. Our first night was pleasant, yes several drinks were consumed to take off the inevitable edge. The conversation did not flow as easily as what I thought it would, considering the amount of time we had talked on the phone and unfortunately I (even though I  thought I had) had not quite reached a place of completely getting fully over my ex, which came to the fore later in the evening. Yes I cried tears when Mr S tried to kiss me, I was ready (or thought I was) and though we did,  my heart was not there, my thoughts were elsewhere. It was traumatic, how could I treat someone like this, this was not fair on him, so at the end of our evening we both decided that it was best that we remained just friends.

As we were both single and mature adults, neither of us were into the pub-pick-up scene, so movies, dinners etc and having company we thought was better than spending our lives alone,. We also decided that if we met anyone else along the way then so be it, we would part our ways but hopefully still have a friendship.  As the weeks passed we saw each other every weekend. Before either of us realised, our friendship had grown into something more. Was it love? The age old question of what is love, how do you define it, what should it feel like, were raised (in my head at least). As a teenager I had many boyfriends, I wasn’t a ‘tart’ but back in my ‘youth’ I thought there was only one sure fire way of hanging onto the ‘boy’ of your dreams… I think you can understand what I am saying here.

When our hormones were racing madly, all we thought about was sex or hanging off the arm of the best looking boy in school, we did not know at that stage it was merely lust not love. I was capricious in my teenage years, I look back now at the ‘want’ of having or being with the ‘boy’ that all the other girls wanted. Did we love each other..we said we did back then, but truly we did not know the meaning of the word. There were the butterflies every time you saw him and equally as much, the ache in your heart when you didn’t. Back then we did not care what they would make of themselves in the future.  We cared for the superficial, or sadly to say I did.

As I grew older, I was able to look at the person for who they were, their core, their values in life.   We all would like wondrous love that is forever romantic, but realistically in many cases, the romance does fade a little but love still remains. Mr. S  and I promised each other (when our light bulbs went on and we knew that we were no longer friends and we were in a serious relationship), that we would never fall into the ‘rut’ – you all know what I mean. The relationship where you don’t appreciate each other, where you don’t make love, where you take each other for granted. Have we maintained this promise? For the most part yes.

Do we appreciate each other after 5 years? Yes we do, Mr. S will put the dishwasher on, or hang up washing, or vacuum floors, or clean the house, without me asking. He knows that I work and that the weekends are for ‘us’ as much as possible. I in turn, will mow the lawns, put the garbage out, or help him when I can. Do we take each other for granted? No, we thank each other still for helping, we tell each other continually that we have appreciated an action or a compliment given.

We laugh, we dance like teenagers crazily around the house, we compliment, we kiss, we hold hands, we hug, we make love, (whenever both of us are awake long enough), but I know that this man that I met five years ago, whom I only thought would only be a friend and nothing more has turned out to be the man that I love and care for, more than any other relationship I have ever had.

Love can develop from friendship.

Yes love , especially as we get older means certain aspects of your relationship slows down or changes, love is knowing that, that person is there for you, is there to share your sorrow and your joys, someone whom you can depend on, talk to and are comfortable with. The butterflies still flutter, just not to the same degree as in your youth, this is something that happens to all of us. Nothing to be afraid of, nothing to be ashamed of.

There are many forms of love, many degrees. No matter how old you are communication and respect for one another must be maintained. Finally the ability to make one another laugh, remember to laugh together.

Mr S and I have not had a cross word or argument in 5 years. Proof that LOVE can grow from friendship.

Was it my fault? Prose.

 

Transparent solitary tear drop falls
meandering down an opaque cheek
before another grows and spills on
a course not identical yet a twin

Lips moist against the tear that flows
eyes blink a little shake of head
try to dispel the ache the pain
sobs so strong but body weak

Capturing moments of happiness
swirled between weight of pain
steely knife penetrates the heart
my actions callow I did this

Trusted not your love of me
emerald eyes tainted vision
accusations taunting
closed ears to fake apologies

As the vinyl circles
scratched with needle music sour
your lyrics droned
none of them with meaning only rhythm

Cadence of untrusting words
delusional what you screamed
yet lipstick collars marked your trail
of where I had not been

How could I feel the guilty one
casting fault upon myself
whilst knowing that you shared
your love your heart with someone else

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This is a piece I had been working on over at 20 lines a day, a challenge for April that meant us working on the one piece of prose or poetry for the entire month until we were satisfied with it. I am not sure if I am, but I am putting it out there regardless.