Fall into me ….

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Fall into me

Into my laughter

And become my joy

Fall into me

Into my peace

And feel my warmth

Fall into me

Into my heart

And just try to understand

Fall into me

Into my mind

And feel my fears

Fall into me

Into this turmoil

And make it still

She began to live again



She began to live again.

As her fingers skimmed the skin of her lover, touching, teasing.

The gentle touch of her lips on her lovers skin turning a key that had been long shut.

Her tongue trailing, outlining, tasting the woman beneath her.

The soft tremble of her lover, the quiet gasps and the quickening of her breath.

She felt it then, the awakening of her own skin, every touch, brush of skin on skin feeling electric.

Every part of her crying out to be touched as her fingers danced and moved on her lover.

Her soul awoke and her time would come once more.

Some write the music.. others write the words

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words and music

Image thanks to Lushquotes.com

Some write the music … others write the words … some dance…others just listen.

Being different people with different ways of feeling and expressing emotion is one of the most beautiful things about being human. When we are open to our hearts music and poetry are the most popular way of expressing emotion and occasionally we hear a song that stirs our heart and evokes a long hidden feeling or memory or we see words on a page that speak to us, or speak for us.

Life is very much like a beautiful song that we all want to sing … sometimes we go off tune, sometimes we forget the words, but it doesn’t really matter as every song will have a meaning to us, what we decide to do with the middle bit is up to us … learn the words, change the words, add a score, slow it down… it is our choice.

Sometimes we hear a beautiful rhythm but cannot get our words to fit no matter how we try .. in the end if we try too hard we either  lose part of the beauty of the music .. or the meaning of the words.

Nothing should be forced, rhythms should come together naturally, but with music and with rhyme, if it doesn’t then we need to accept that and carry on searching.

The beat goes on……..

The Butterfly Wing

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The Butterfly Wing

 I will always be grateful to the beautiful butterfly,

that rested on my shoulder today.

I felt the breeze from her wing, delicate and soft.

A beautiful soul giving peace to a troubled mind.

A moment of magic and I felt tears sting my eyes,

not for what I have lost but what I have gained.

The beginning of the end ….

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It was the knee that got me first .. right in the face.   I wasn’t expecting it, it caught me off guard.  I felt my lip burst, the pain shooting to the back of my brain, the unexpected blow shocking me.

I tasted the blood, I felt it trickle down my chin.

I felt the pull on my hair, was I going to be scalped?   Then the nails, digging into me, like burning needles.

My eyes squeezed shut in pain, all other senses disappearing.

“Sorry” she gasped .. “I’ve never come that hard before”

I knew she really wasn’t sorry.    The smile on her face belied her apology.

She was happy.

I was bleeding.

I grabbed the nearest thing to me, which happened to be her fake silk knickers and held them to my mouth to stop the blood from dripping on my clean sheets.

“what are you doing” she yelled “those are new”.

“um bleedin” I mumbled from behind the knickers “you kneed me in the fathe”

I could feel my lip swelling as I balanced on my knees.  All feeling of passion had gone, stopped in a split second.  I doubted I would ever be able to have sex again.

“Oh quit moaning” she said as she grabbed her knickers out of my hand.

“Look at these, they are ruined” staring at me with those cool blue eyes that I been fascinated by earlier that night, but the flick of a smile at the sides of her mouth confirmed my suspicion that I had already been forgiven.

“I thaid I wath thorry” I tried, but she was already on her feet, pulling on her jeans, getting ready to leave.

She smiled at me.  “It’s late, I have to be up early for work tomorrow, or I would stay”

I looked into those eyes again and my stomach flipped again “tho .. can I thee you again” I said in my most seductive (if strangely lisping voice).

“I suppose so” she said   “how about Tuesday?”

I grabbed my phone to check my diary, “yup Tuethday ith fine, where thall we meet”

A slow smile spread across her face “how about I just come round here again, you can make pizza and we can have sex again… but hold the pizza… oh!  and I hope your mouth is better by then”

I grinned as I rolled off the bed, probably not the best thing to do when your lip is split, but I grinned anyway.

“Tuethday it ith then”  I said, being as cool and coy as I could be with a bleeding lip, standing totally naked in front of a woman I had only met earlier that night.

Again she stared at me, whether it was out of attraction or pity I wasn’t sure …but she stared at me anyway.

She reached out and softly touched my neck “Sorry for the love bites, babe.. I couldn’t help myself”

I turned and looked in the mirror.

“Jeezuth, what have you done to me!!” as I stood and stared at my own naked reflection.

“I look like I have a therious thkin problem”

She laughed .. “you will be the envy of your friends after pulling me”

She was right, it was a small price to pay, my friends would be jealous, I could show my badges of a successful pulling night off with pride.  Even if I would have to wear a polo neck for the next week.

She was dressed now.  Ready to go.

She kissed me on the cheek and whispered “thank you” in my ear.

“until Tuesday then” she said with a half smile that melted me and scared me at the same time.

I was still standing there contemplating at the bruises and the split lip.   “ok” I said, “thee you then”

She turned when she reached the door.

“I’m Kay” she said  “Nice to meet you”

I smiled again “I’m CJ… Nithe to meet you too”

…and so it began.

The rock

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I am the  rock.

Facing the waves.

Gasping for air.

As they crash on me, around me.

They may pound me.

Reshape me.

Eventually wear me down to sand.

But they will never break me.

I will wait on the storm to pass.

Until the soft kiss of the tide

surrounds me once more.



I am one of those women who decided to change trades whilst in the army.  I ended up in the Signals as a DTG but back in the early 80’s I was working in stores at Bicester.   During this time they decided to make a new “emergency” shift that worked nights and I was in the first lot of women to be part of this.

Working on this shift was a bit of a laugh .. two storewomen and a driver on each shift (if my memory serves me right!) .. and our main duties were to check if any telexes came in, check location on the fabulously old microfiche system and then head off to which ever site and shed the item was located in.

We actually had a really interesting time of it, from loading tyres for Northern Ireland, ropes, that we skipped up the aisles with until we realised they were actually Funeral cords (sorry!), various engines, oh all sorts of things large and small that was needed urgently.    Sometimes our driver couldn’t fit items onto the 4 tonner we had, so it was my responsibility to sort out alternative transport by ringing the RCT.

One night we had a telex come in for  Tent Marquee P x 4 … and being an organised and responsible sort *cough* I decided I should ring the RCT in advance and book one of those really long lorries to fit these Marquee posts in .. which I duly did.

Off we went to the sheds (stopping at another shed to pick up an additional forklift that one of the gals drove over to the shed we needed to be at) and started looking for our marquee posts.   Outside the ordered lorry stood waiting, two of us on forklifts driving round this huge shed (if you can imagine an aircraft hanger with shelving!) .. until we found the correct area and shelf.

It was then we found out that the Tent Marquee P x 4 actually meant 4 Tent marquee pins … Oops!

It probably wouldnt have been so bad but a couple of nights earlier we had phoned the MOD police to report an intruder in a shed .. (we could hear his foot stops) which turned out to be the drips coming off the leaky roof…

Or perhaps if Sue our driver hadn’t stopped so quick the Rolls Royce engine in the back of her 4 tonner hadn’t fallen through the floor of her truck …

Or maybe if we hadn’t lost Debbie one night (she was practicing hanging onto the rope of the back of the 4 tonner and fell off!) …

All I know is that the wee Scottish Sergeant Major was not very happy with me … Can’t for the world of me think why!!


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