"Special Love"
There's someone special in my life,
He's not my brother and I'm not his wife.
He's always there at the end of my day,
If I lose my temper he loves me anyway.
His chocolate brown eyes say all that needs said,
At the end of my day he's there in my bed.
With warm wet kisses that tickle my ears,
I'm content in the knowledge we'll be together for years.
He's my best friend and all that he asks,
Is a tender caress or a pat on the back.
A fierce protector in the face of aggression,
Although I love him I have a confession.
I constantly search for the prince of my heart,
Someone who love me right from the start.
A true love who'll tolerate all that goes on.
A man who will LOVE... my pomeranian!
By Misty
For Brandon
Thursday, July 1, 2010
"Weaponless Hands"
The mighty warrior stood in his land, fearless and calm with weaponless hands.
Shareing the knowledge of ancients you see, with everyday mortals like you and like me.
He had fought many demons throughout his time, which ravaged his body and tortured his mind.
His victories were hailed through far reaching lands, villians feared and cowered at his weaponless hands.
But waiting in his path, in a dark, damp place, was a foe so evil... it had no face.
So small and mynute it could not be spied, the deadliest enemy which could not be denied.
It flew with such grace and such ease on the air, that no one knew it even was there.
It touched our great warrior, he had no defense, the agression it showed... to our minds, made no sense.
It snuffed out his light, but his memory will live, in our hearts and our minds... we will try to forgive!
By Misty Oakley
In memory of Mr. Z
Shareing the knowledge of ancients you see, with everyday mortals like you and like me.
He had fought many demons throughout his time, which ravaged his body and tortured his mind.
His victories were hailed through far reaching lands, villians feared and cowered at his weaponless hands.
But waiting in his path, in a dark, damp place, was a foe so evil... it had no face.
So small and mynute it could not be spied, the deadliest enemy which could not be denied.
It flew with such grace and such ease on the air, that no one knew it even was there.
It touched our great warrior, he had no defense, the agression it showed... to our minds, made no sense.
It snuffed out his light, but his memory will live, in our hearts and our minds... we will try to forgive!
By Misty Oakley
In memory of Mr. Z
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Day Dreams
"Day Dreams"
My home reflects a lost time gone by,
With lacy curtains and oil lamps to read by.
Old photos and flowers are hung on my walls,
But as my mind day dreams another voice calls.
From the final frontier, "where no mans gone before,"
It's always Jim Kirk who knocks on my door.
His hazel green eyes and sandy brown hair,
Make me forget...I'm really not there.
I'm thrust in the future along Jim Kirk's side,
With Zulu and Bones along for the ride.
We're Beamed to a planet where somethings a miss,
I walk with the Captain, and pray for a kiss.
He suddenly turns and says with a smile,
"Beam us up, Mr. Spock...tell Transporter Chief Kile!"
As the Transporter beam hums, I awake with a shock,
As the little bird chirps in my old coo-coo clock!
By
Misty Oakley
My home reflects a lost time gone by,
With lacy curtains and oil lamps to read by.
Old photos and flowers are hung on my walls,
But as my mind day dreams another voice calls.
From the final frontier, "where no mans gone before,"
It's always Jim Kirk who knocks on my door.
His hazel green eyes and sandy brown hair,
Make me forget...I'm really not there.
I'm thrust in the future along Jim Kirk's side,
With Zulu and Bones along for the ride.
We're Beamed to a planet where somethings a miss,
I walk with the Captain, and pray for a kiss.
He suddenly turns and says with a smile,
"Beam us up, Mr. Spock...tell Transporter Chief Kile!"
As the Transporter beam hums, I awake with a shock,
As the little bird chirps in my old coo-coo clock!
By
Misty Oakley
WHY?
My friend Rose began a blog for her writing. I have long wished to be a writer but really doubt I have a talent for it. I do on occasion write poetry that "I" enjoy. To be perfectly honest, they all seem to have the same cadence of the Night Before Christmas. But I am a firm believer if your art is with paint and clay or paper and pen...it must be done first for the artist who is doing it. Then if someone else likes it...how wonderful! So I will post some of my poetry here and once in a while I'll post others, I have permission to share with you. Thank you Rose...keep writing. You inspire me.http://livingwiccy.blogspot.com/
Moonlight
As the sun leaves the sky, the moon rises above, I wait in my chamber for my one true love.
He is there at my window, bathed in the moonlight...my heart skips a beat as he comes into sight.
As I beckon him in and I nod my consent, he crosses the threshold and makes his descent.
Touching my skin with his cool, smooth hands, I kiss his lips sweetly and I await his demands.
I feel safe and alive, while in his embrace then I look in his eyes as he kisses my face.
There's something within that I can't recognize, it's hidden down deep in the depths of his eyes.
My body betrays me...as he kisses my neck his lips feel like fire as they continue thier trek.
His mouth glides like silk to the pulse of my heart, then with no hint of warning, he halts with a start.
The pain is exquisite, as it floods through my viens, my lips part to scream but in silence I remain.
I lie still as he feeds, his long hair on my breast, I am so sad to find... life's no longer my quest!
By Misty Oakley
Moonlight
As the sun leaves the sky, the moon rises above, I wait in my chamber for my one true love.
He is there at my window, bathed in the moonlight...my heart skips a beat as he comes into sight.
As I beckon him in and I nod my consent, he crosses the threshold and makes his descent.
Touching my skin with his cool, smooth hands, I kiss his lips sweetly and I await his demands.
I feel safe and alive, while in his embrace then I look in his eyes as he kisses my face.
There's something within that I can't recognize, it's hidden down deep in the depths of his eyes.
My body betrays me...as he kisses my neck his lips feel like fire as they continue thier trek.
His mouth glides like silk to the pulse of my heart, then with no hint of warning, he halts with a start.
The pain is exquisite, as it floods through my viens, my lips part to scream but in silence I remain.
I lie still as he feeds, his long hair on my breast, I am so sad to find... life's no longer my quest!
By Misty Oakley
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