They sit around the coffee table like two old friends. They share a warm smile. Sip at a hot mug of decaf coffee. Simple small talk:
- the weather
- family
- friends.
It seems easy enough.
They elaborate. Describing days out at the park with their children. Honest Innocent fun. Jokes, and laughter at what little Sam is doing. Nothing more. Just two friends catching up.
Soon it becomes more. A delicate foot slides along a leg. Warm hands touching. Deeper breaths. But only friends.
A delicate tongue caressing the ear, a gentle stroke of her hair. Maybe more than just friends.
They begin to read deeper into little mannerisms. Was that really a twitch or a suggestive wink of the eye? Was that touch an accident or could he not resist?
They see their partners grow weak, eyes sunken,hair turning grey, there children slip away from them. No more excitement in this "friendship." More than just friends?
Inspired by gifts and loans*
Friday 24 September 2010
Saturday 28 August 2010
Free to fly posted by soph
Shut your eyes. Embrace the skies.
Flutter your wings. See what hope brings.
Fly the breeze. Soar high with ease.
Lift of the ground. Silence no sound.
Clear your mind. No longer man kind.
You're free to fly. Let out a sigh.
Peace is above. Fly like a dove.
elegant and regal. Fly like an eagle.
streamlined and slight. Fly like a kite.
Clean your soul. You now have a goal.
Your nearing the top. There's no time to stop.
Paradise within grip. Don't let it slip.
Imagination runs wild. Let out your inner child.
Innocent and free once more. Happiness to the very core.
Sunday 22 August 2010
You will no longer be able to find some of my older poems on my blog. My poetry says alot about me as a person. When I wrote some of my older poems I wasn't always the person I wanted to be. I needed breathing space to reinvent myself and to practice being the person I want to be. So now I will try my best to write again when I have the time, in between my work and other things. However my style will change. I'm happy to be who I am now, with a true friend right beside me. I hope you enjoy my writing :)
Perfectly peaceful
The night that is perfectly peaceful, we close our eyes, to a world of gentle wishes, soft as the sky. The dream that flows like water, silky as my sheets. The rise and fall of a childs chest. Shhh, not a breath to be heard.
Tuesday 1 June 2010
Words- posted by Soph
Words. Lifeless, bitter, exciting, flamboyant, dull, vivid, colourful...
So many different emotions so many words...
Open an empty notebook and play with words to paint any picture with any tone.
Words give us our identity. The language we use tells others who we are and how we act. Do you speak posh? Do you speak with an accent? Do you speak your first language? You are your words.
Words are our thoughts, they are our dreams, they help us to communicate and live our lives. 
Thursday 27 May 2010
Heaven's Missing an Angel posted by Nanda
Honestly, I don’t understand why
They took our loved ones to the sky
It takes away your smile
Then you cry for quite awhile
Thoughts of my beloved
My hands trying to reach the sky above
They say it’s because heaven’s missing an angel
That He took her away to be His guardian angel
They say ‘darling, wipe away your tears’
Let the rain wash away your fears
You needn’t grasp too hard to the past
For it will never last
And I know, heaven’s missing an angel
Though my heart still throbs in pain
And I’ll always be holding in vain
To your smile, To your laugh
Now it’ll never be enough
Cause heaven’s missing an angel
To make my guardian angel
Sunday 23 May 2010
From Your Secret Admirer posted by Nanda
I can recall, all those hours, minutes, seconds, that I spent looking at him from afar. Behind the tall bookshelves of the library, among dusty books I would peek, just to catch a glimpse of him. I would stand there, or when my feet would start to hurt, I’d sit on the plain floor at an angle where I can continue my ‘silent’ watching.
He’s always there, on Monday mornings, sitting on the seat I loved to call his ‘favourite spot’. Although I didn’t know if it was his favourite spot or it was just the only space vacant at the times he chose to visit the library. Eyes furrowed, staring seriously at the laptop in front of him, sometimes casually flicking through pages of his book. On some days a friend would also be sitting there, but my ultimate focus was on him. It always was.
I didn’t know what pulled me towards him. Sometimes my lips would paint a small smile on my face, when he nods his head, apparently he found what he was looking for in his book then he would type away as if there was no tomorrow. He looked a little childish at those times. It even made me giggle. Maybe it was his simple self, wrapped up in whatever he’s doing at the moment, that completely enchanted me. Or the way he takes of his glasses and closes his eyes.
And then one day… our eyes met. I cursed under my breath as my heart skipped a beat and my stomach filled with the annoying butterflies. I awkwardly concentrated on the book in front of me and tried not to look at him again. One glance and it nearly took my breath away.
He’s a stranger!
I kept on yelling that in my head. But the fuzzy warm feeling won’t step away…
Quickly, I scribbled a little note on the piece of paper I ripped from my book.
I love you.
Your Secret Admirer.
My hand was trembling as I hesitated. I must have lost my mind, thinking that I could just walk up to him, give a pretty smile, drop the note on his table and walk away. Did I hit my head or something? I tore the note into pieces and left my hiding place. Yes, between the bookshelves with dusty books. I looked forward to next Monday. Always.
Sunday 4 April 2010
I've had enough
Hey you!
Yes I mean you!
Its too late to run kid, i've already seen you.
Oh really?
Yeah if you say so.
You were here last week too weren't you?
Don't lie I saw you.
damn kids hanging around here, don't think I don't know what your up to.
well go ahead chucking your stuff all over. I'm so sick of this. First the water spilling when I dip the mop, then all this packaging from sweets lying around...
oh and the dust collecting
and my back aches.
Its so unfair I have to do this. That ass who didn't want to take me as an assistant...If I could just...
just...
just...
but no I need the money.
One day i'll show you all i'm better than a caretaker.
Friday 15 January 2010
You turned up one day on my doorstep. Just like that. The bell rang and my heels clicked across the hallway to answer. I gazed down upon you, trying for the life of me to imagine what you could want. The time was half past midnight and I hadn't even began to think about sleep. My conscience was eating away at me, all I wanted was some alone time . You were the last thing I expected to turn up.
Wearily I led you in to the sitting room. I plumped up the old purple cushions embroidered with flowers and gestured to you to sit down. I wanted to turn you away. I wanted just to slam the door in your face like I would to a door sales man, but that would be like closing a door to my past. Trapping my emotions in a room and locking them up for ever.
Stirring my tea with a plastic stirrer I sighed heavily. I watched you taking small sips and waited for some kind of explanation. I blew heavily on my tea. A sigh escaped my lips and I looked down into the tea. I needed to say something.
"So what brought you here tonight?" I asked with a tinge of annoyance in my voice.
The woman cleared her throat, "I'm sure you don't need me to answer that question Anita."
"I'm sure I do" I replied. It was no use, the realisation was evident in my voice. My eyes looked tired as if they had seen to much in this lifetime. I took the fragile woman's hand in mine. She stared into my eyes, her watery pale blue eyes digging deep into my soul.
"Why can't you just admit that mistakes happen?" I muttered. "Both of us were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"You can keep believing that if you wish." She said in the type of voice that makes the very core of you wobble like jelly.
"When you decide to grow up and behave like an adult maybe you will take the duster out of the closet and brush the dust of your delusional memories. But until then the fact isn't going to go away."I looked down, trying to free my self of the grip she had over me.
All of a sudden I burst of anger exploded inside me.
"It wasn't me who killed her, Julia. It was you. Don't talk to me about hiding from the truth."
"You said it yourself, we were both in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Like a cloud in the summer sky, the memory drifted back into my mind. It was a cool spring morning and everything seemed perfectly normal. I had just dropped my son off at his boarding school after an enjoyable week together. I was running low on food supplies and Gracie needed some new clothes so decided I would go to the shopping centre.
I felt exhausted and needed a coffee. I dumped my bag on the seat next to me and sipped, deep in thought.
And then the bomb EXPLODED.
Children's screams vibrated in my ears. Babies wailed. The shopping centre was in havoc. Bodies lay littered on the floor. I was running for the exit before my legs had even be told to by my brain. But then Julia's place solemn face caught my eye. She was the only one not screaming or running for the exit. She looked pale. I stared at her for a few seconds holding eye contact for just a fraction.
She leaned her back to the door and slid down to the floor. Eyes shut she looked almost as if she was deep in sleep. I ran to help her. She would not wake up. Mustering all the strength I could I lifted her up and ran out the door with her in my arms.
I lay her down on a pile of jackets and raised her legs. I waited for her to awaken. Slowly her eye lids flickered open and she repeated a name.
"Aimee. Aimee. Aimee I killed Aimee."
"Go back. fetch Aimee."
I whispered gently to her, "We cant go back in there."
My mind was churning over all the things I had seen. Who was Aimee? what did Julia do to kill her?
Little did I realise just how tangled up in this mystery I was to become.
To be continued.....
