The Start Of Love

Pray tell me, where does love begin its life?
Does it creep into the conscious mind
from ancient memories of long lost dreams?
Is a sight, a sound, a scent, a touch
enough to wake it, give it form and feeling
to send five senses reeling with its joy,
as two bodies find that five plus five
make ten... and then... and then, and then...

Often we may search and yearn for love,
spend hours, months or years without success,
before, one moment, unannounced it comes
to overwhelm us with its tidal flood
of all that we desired. Then we are drowned
as its currents sweep us from the shores
of loneliness. We can but bless the fates
who made us wait for this, made us see
the waiting as a gift which added golden
overtones to prayers which had been answered.

Thanks to Kerry's Wednesday Challenge over at IGWRT, I was spurred to wax lyrical this afternoon, though probably not in a way in which she intended - But then, what can you expect from a Cad?!

Guilty Pleasure

Isadora Gruye,  at IGWRT , asks us to reveal our secrets. This one is perhaps a fantasy on my part,  as I don't believe I've indulged in such a caper since I was a lad - and even then, not at midnight! I had too much respect for my teeth. However, a man can dream, can't he?! That in itself can be a guilty pleasure!


How I ask you, may one measure
the guilt attached to guilty pleasure?

Does it mean the size of the Mars Bar
or the depth of the sweetie jar
will add it's own dimension?

Must I mention
how this delight
on midnight
exploits to the kitchen
can get your fingers itching
to tear the paper
fast, then make a
start, as teeth
nibble away to reach beneath
the chocolate topping,
find the caramel. No stopping
until the nougat is licked clean.
Know what I mean?

"A Mars a day "
so adverts say
"will help you work, or play, or rest"
but one at midnight tastes the best!

Last Minute Friday 55

Doctor FTSE spoke of a Triangular Number in his blogpost today, so I thought I would do a triangular 55 for G-Man, with thanks to the  Doc for putting the idea in my head, also for explaining what the h*** he meant!

Each
little word
adds to another,
and pretty soon you
find that this one extra,
added line by line, will keep
you at it even while asking  how
much longer you will be forced to write
this rot, making little sense if truth be told,
until lines one to ten equal fifty five words. Magic!

Mercy!

Dust clouds turn the skies blood-red and the moon
spills acid from its lofty perch above
wastelands where darkness blankets the hillsides.
Only the gleam from the sea's surface lights
the landscape with hope. Fragile, filigree
treetops shudder in the onslaught of winds
which howl from all four points of the compass
at once, defying the laws of Nature.
When the Furies of the Cosmos unleash
their hatred man can only beg "Mercy!"

Inspired by Tess and Felix Vallotton at Mag 143