Last summer I pressed the delightful flowers you picked for me between thin paper to capture their beauty somehow.
Shades of red, yellow and orange painted the leaves when fall touched the air and you pressed your body to mine as I stood slightly shaking from the cool air, or love.
Winter hit hard and each time the snow blanketed the ground, you pressed your lips to mine.
Days are longer now as spring announces it is here to stay and the last blizzard becomes a cold memory.
Standing with my lips pressed to this letter, I find it hard to believe you are not with me. No text or chat box open will allow me to express how I feel. Now I’m frightened of what I’ve written.
Written for Magpie Tales
Once I was told my brown tan body exiting into the bedroom in white thongs was heavenly…
Once I was told my long maroon nails softly tracing words of love on his back was the sexiest he’s ever found a woman…
Once I was told my snow white breast, head bent back, eyes half closed above his hard body was pure ecstasy…
Once I was told as he leaned behind me, naked bodies lost in magic, that he loved the small of my back as it arched to greet only him…
Once I was told wearing only my black heels that I looked like a goddess sent from hell to drive him mad…
Once I was told as my pink tongue shyly explored his body that no other woman would ever compare to me…
Written by Donetta Sifford for Magpie Tales…
Christ in the Wilderness by Stanley Spencer
Oh, Father, I have felt all. Temptation wrapping around me darker than a moonless night.
Pride whispered I’d prevail. Then envy gripped my heart. I dreamed of Mary Magdalene with another lover and wrath ran through my veins.
Even as I prayed, I know I’m the chosen one but for that what do I own? Greed laughed somewhere inside me as I struggled to stay sane.
Father, how can you expect me not to feel lust for the woman I saved? Am I to overlook her beauty and kind heart?
A terrible sadness has consumed me and I didn’t want to move. Gluttony took over as did sloth. Depression?
I feel what every man must feel and even in my death, they will still be simple men. This test you lay before me, I have surely failed.
As my blood sheds and I’m nailed to the cross, how can I condemn their natural feelings? Through all my pain and suffering, as my body aches, I will still gaze down into Mary’s eyes and wish I could tenderly hold her.
Written for Magpie Tales
Your scrutiny makes me feel vulnerable, my back should always be turned to you as I insecurely hug my arms around myself, trying to protect my heart from you, for you have showed me what it is to feel torn into, unsure of which way is up, and though I know it’s you who should feel afraid of losing me, it’s I who fall short on goodbyes. I answer your promises with the slightest nod of my head, waiting on you to jerk my world out from under me, leaving me off balance and undeserving of love.
written for Magpie Tales
|artwork by Ulrike Bolenz|