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Sunday, 24 February 2013

Marvelous - A poem in memory of my father

This is a reminder if you needed any,
Why our Dad was loved by so many.

We think of the Kinks and Doris Day,
And keeping us happy come what may.

He may have been thrifty, hoarding his treasures.
But his love he gave out in generous measures.

His walks on the head collecting golf balls,
And I can still hear his Trixie calls.

Down on the beach without a weather protector,
Scouring the sand with his metal detector.

Chatting to all his friends remembering past capers,
Or out on his bike delivering his papers.

If these thoughts don't do, use others if you'd rather.
But when you think of him, remember a loving friend, husband and father.

Wednesday, 20 February 2013


For the boy it had been a great Sunday afternoon, the first time he had ridden his bicycle without stabilizers. He could still feel the excitement as he realised his dad was no longer holding the back of his seat but better still was the the look of pride in his dads face. Once he was off there was no stopping him and he spent hours riding around the park until he was exhausted. That was why he had put up no fight when he was told it was bed time. Lying in bed looking at the poster on the ceiling of an elephant spraying water over its back from the trunk, he wished he could go on a safari. He rolled over to reach for his teddy bear but found nothing there. Confusion took him for a moment before he remembered putting it on the shelf. He felt a little guilty but now. His stabilizers were off he and he was grown up. He should not have a teddy bear in bed any more.

Watching the boy flick the switch on the bedside lamp plunging the room darkness he allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom. This did not take long as his night vision was very strong. He looked across the now dark room at the mound in the bed. Anger did not come close to how he was feeling. He wanted to cause pain and suffering and could feel the urge building as the rage intensified. He had tried very hard to repress the urges he felt each day. Waiting now was difficult but his past experience had taught him patience. If he was going to have his fun he would have to wait.

The room was quiet, not even the ticking of a clock disturbed the peace. The only sound was the boy breathing. It was not yet the slow steady breath of deep sleep. The day had seen the boy riding solo for the first time and the boy had talked of nothing else since. He had already been in the bedroom and listening to the talk of the day. At one point the boy had come unexpectedly to the room. Only some fast reflexes had kept him from being discovered. Thinking about that shock now only added to the anticipation of what was going happen later. Not fully sure how this was going to play out. He felt a familiar surge of rage. He barely managed to suppress it and he knew it was going to be messy.

Daydreaming those pleasant thoughts made him miss the change in breathing. Now he was focused. The little snores coming from the small bed told him all he needed to know. Soon he would make his move and the fun could begin. Patience was required as the parents were still awake and downstairs. He wanted to take his time with this one and make him pay in pain. Time drifted on and there seemed to be no hope that they were ever going to go to bed. There had been a false alarm earlier when the dad had got up to put the kettle on. Listening to the kettle ping in the kitchen was a real nightmare. He knew that there was probably going to be another hour of waiting.

Passing the time by counting the boys breath he waited. Waiting until finally there was movement downstairs and the T.V. was turned off. The parents took their cups to the kitchen and rinsed them out. This was it, finally the waiting was over. The rage was to be unleashed in a violence this house would never see again.

He heard the mum go into the bedroom and the toilet flush in the bathroom as the father finished his business. Footsteps on the landing and a soft light bathing the boy on the bed. The father opens the door to check on his precious boy. Holding his breath he waits for the door to close. He wants to make his move but he hears the father chuckle and sees him step into the room. The father starts towards him and he holds himself dead still. Is he about to be discovered?. He feels the fathers hands as they pick him up and carry him to the bed. He is tucked under the boys arm in his usual place. The footsteps retreat and the door closes and night once more enfolds the room.....

Tuesday, 19 February 2013


He stood sheltered in the doorway of the guild. Looking out from under his robes he watched the dust swirl and eddy in this oppressive heat. People hurried past, heads down. No one would meet his gaze, blue eyes that almost crackled with power. He was patient, he was stone. The Phantom had the city of Constantinople in a state of panic. Not one night had passed in the last seven without a fatality. The stars had been in perfect alignment for the cult of Turab. The summoning had led to their extinction. Years they had waited to release the god they worshipped. He had wiped the last of that evil order from the earth only hours earlier. 

The phantom would be the hardest, seven nights of death had strengthened it. Already it believed in its own divinity and that made it dangerous. The power of belief was not to be underestimated. Night was approaching but still he did not move. His face hiding deeper in the shadows of his cowl. Still and quiet he let night slip over him. No one was on the streets to be startled by the sudden movement as he stepped onto the street. He could feel the Phantom awaken. There was a rotten and fetid odour that would lead him straight to it. His stride was purposeful, confident and unerring. He came at last to a building under construction and stood looking up at the second story. 

He slid the hood back off his head. Running his fingers through his wavy hair he planned. The building was dark but he could sense the movement from within. He made a circuit whilst incanting. To his eyes alone a ribbon of power formed a circle around the structure. He was on the inside of that circle and until he broke it the Phantom was not able to leave. With a steady hand he opened the door and stepped into darkness. Still again he let his eyes become accustomed to the night. He took a deep breath, the fetid stench of death like a beacon drawing him onwards. He made his way to the ladder in the far corner which was the only way up to the next level. 

Climbing slowly he almost gagged on the smell that assaulted him. Pushing away the bloated arm that hung out over the opening he climbed finally to his feet. The Phantom knew now that someone was there. A wailing moan began it the next room. The wail spoke of pain and death. It intensified, designed to cause panic. Ignoring the sound and the bodies that littered the floor he stepped forward. His heart rate barely increased from the exertion of climbing the ladder. He soon entered the hallway guided now by the sound as well as the smell. 

Moving forward down the narrow space he sensed humour in the sound. The Phantom could not believe he was still coming. The Phantom could not see his eyes. He moved slowly but relentlessly on. There was only one doorway ahead and he would reach it all to soon. Stepping into the room he almost staggered back at the wall of hate. The Phantom was truly strong but he was not scared. He began to chant once more, a globe of azure light forming above his hands. The wailing stopped suddenly replaced with a mewling. It knew that something different was afoot. He let the light bathe the room around him and took his first glimpse or the creature. The form it had chosen was that of a man. A man that looked just a little too perfect. Stood across the room it stared with undisguised malevolence. 

A knife blurred as it wound its way through its knuckles. He stepped towards the creature, the light cast revealing confusion. Not used to being confronted this way the Phantom stepped backwards. Another step forward causing a thud as the Phantom hit the wall with its back. The knife picked up pace as confusion and anger warred across its features. The azure light was so bright now. Night had been cast from the room now and he took another step forward. The mewling creature suddenly lunged forward as it pushed off the wall. The knife glinting in the unnatural light as it flashed toward his throat. His hand caught the wrist holding the blade. The sudden flurry of movement ended now. 

He could feel his strength grow and he willed the light forwards. A scream of agony ripped forth from it throat at the first contact. The knife clattered to the floor as fingers spasm. The glow of the magic light fed off the hatred growing ever brighter. Losing its belief seemed to cause the creature to shrink in on itself. The Phantom had lost now and victory was assured. The azure light blinked out with a puff of apple blossom. He blinked as the sudden darkness collapsed around him. Closing his eyes he heard movement back from were the bodies lay. In that darkness he knew that his test was only just beginning. He would not waiver he would be resolute. Turning he made his way back down the corridor....

Saturday, 16 February 2013

Review of 'Olivia' by Anne James

Olivia is a damaged character who lives in a self imposed exile. The story sees Olivia start to leave that exile and embark on a sexual odyssey. There is something for everyone here as Olivia turns out to be a very naughty girl. It took me a little while to warm to Olivia but when she gets going she gets hot fast.
Anne James is very talented and able to make the sex part of a story you want to read. I would recommend you make this purchase....


Wednesday, 13 February 2013

Valentines Day

Kelly woke up to disappointment. No mail on the computer and no mail on the mat beneath the letter box. She never normally was this eager for mail but today was different. Valentines day was a special exception. The anticipation built up so high that to be disappointed was a cruel blow. She went through her morning routine with no real enthusiasm. Sitting at the breakfast bar staring at the soggy cereal Kelly could not bring forth the desire to eat. Pushing the bowl away with a sigh Kelly stood and decided to head off to work. Still pulling on her coat as she opened the door, she did not notice the flash of red. Taking the keys from her pocket Kelly turned to close the door. Her hand paused half way to the lock, the keyring swinging from side to side. Kelly stood mesmerised by the red envelope pinned to her door. Her name written in a neat italic script that seemed to flow across the paper Kelly. She reached out to take the envelope and noticed her hand shaking. This was it, the excitement that had been missing all morning. Anticipation gave way to eager curiosity and soon the envelope was in her hand and open. A small card slid out onto her palm. It contained the same neatly written script in the form of a short poem:

You look but don't see,
you hear but don't listen.
If you want to find me,
the way will glisten.

Flipping the card over there was nothing else written. She was puzzled as to what it could mean. One thing for sure was that the day was a lot more interesting. Locking the door Kelly hurried down the path and off to work. Sitting on the train she read the card over and over again. By the time she arrived at her desk she no longer needed the card. Kelly could picture the neat script and it was all she could think about. What did it mean? The question bounced around her head driving her crazy. She was so glad when her lunch break came, a chance to think in peace. Running through a gap in traffic Kelly reached the entrance to her usual coffee shop. She ordered her sandwich and coffee, taking a seat in the window sat down to wait. Lost in thought the quite “ahem” startled her. Kelly put her bag on the floor and the waiter placed her order on the table in front of her. Not having eaten breakfast Kelly devoured the sandwich, the salty bacon a delight on her tongue. Hunger satisfied Kelly picked up her drink and sat looking through the window. The words running through her mind became a jumbled blur. What would glisten?. The lights on the wall behind her that glistened a reflection in the window?. All too soon the coffee was done and it was time to head back to the office. Standing to gather plate and cup Kelly turned and walked into the next table. She absent mindedly apologised to the disgruntled customer.

There on the wall, stuck to a picture of a rose with water droplets glistening was another envelope. Kelly placed the plate and cup on the counter and went to retrieve her card. Looking around she did not see anyone looking at her. No obvious signs of who had placed the red envelope. Tearing it open she removed the small white card. Plain on one side but on the other another little poem.

Open eyes start to see,
hazy still but soon clear.
For a plan of what will be,
You must face your fear.

She looked around again but no one was so much as glancing her way. Kelly felt more confused than before and a little worried. She was still considering what facing her fear meant. The afternoon dragged by and she was ready to pull her hair out by the end of her shift. Finally she was ready to go home. Approaching the door to the cloak room Kelly stopped in her tracks. There was a poster on the door that had not been there earlier. She barked a laugh and turned to see if anyone was looking at her. The spider on the poster was nothing to be scared of. A cartoon creation holding chocolates, a flower and stood underneath a huge boot. The spider was made to look like it was dragging a red envelope. Kelly was scared of spiders but this one made her smile with its comical expression and top hat. Stepping forward her fingers closed upon the envelope and Kelly pulled it free. Pushing open the door open she stepped through and sat in a cubicle. There was no waiting now and soon the discarded envelope was a crumpled mess on the floor. The now familiar card looked up at her, promising answers.

Eyes now open wide,
see me at Eight O’clock.
I will meet you outside,
the Inn were I be, The Peacock.

Finally something she could understand. The Peacock was the inn near where she lived, an exclusive restaurant. She was racked with indecision, some one had gone to a lot of trouble. But should she go and meet a stranger?. On the way home Kelly called a friend to ask for some advice. Her friend got really excited and told her that she had to go. She would be fine as it was a built up area and she stayed in contact. A taxi there and back would be the safest way to go. Kelly realised that she was actually going to do this. When she got home she became a whirlwind of activity, clothes and shoes flew everywhere. Ready at last she made her way out to the taxi. It was not a long ride into the town centre but she felt the excitement coursing through her. The taxi pulled to the curb dead on eight o'clock. Kelly got out and looked around for signs of her date. Stood to the side of the entrance holding flowers and what looked like chocolates was a good looking man. As she approached he spotted her and a nervous smile flashed on his face. She stopped suddenly as the words of the poems flashed into her mind about looking and not seeing. This was the waiter from the Café who served her every day. Each conversation flashed through her mind and she realised that he always spoke to her more than other customers. She had never looked twice at him. Stood here though she could not see anything she did not like. Panic was on his face now, he looked worried she was going to run away. She smiled genuinely and walked forward to meet him.

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Twisted Romance

Just as way of an explanation, this story is from my facebook page. I was given 13 words that I had to use within a romantic story. These words are the ones that are highlighted in bold:

It was unfair, why did it have to be like this?. You wait your whole life for love and when you find it everything becomes difficult. I had always considered myself a normal member of society and not prone to unnatural urges. Here in Milan, walking along side the Naviglio Pavese, I looked into those dark waters and sought peace. I found it all so annoying, wrestling with my conscience like this. 

Aubrianna was her name and I had met her whilst I was out walking. Taking a pause to shake a stone out of my Boot, she had sat next to me on the bench. We had struck up a conversation, I introduced myself as Drew rather than Andrew. We exchanged numbers and from the way my heart was racing I had known I would call this beautiful creature. We had gone out on a couple of dates which had seemed to go well.

I knew it was fast but I had such strong feelings for her that I suggested meeting up with some friends who liked to party. I had suggested some basic skinny dipping as I knew that Mel and Dale were big fans. I had then suggested we headed to Jo Jo’s as she had a real sadistic streak. I had mentioned that Fahmida would bring all of her toys and gadgets and if we were lucky she would strip. We would really make a night of it. Aubrianna had agreed but there was something that spoke of hesitance in her manner, I pushed it from my mind. I had set to planning, ringing around my friends. They were all really keen and we set a date for the following week. 

I called Aubrianna and gave her the good news. On the phone she sounded hesitant and suggested we meet up again first. The date had been memorable and had led to this walk and my dilemma. Meeting at a local café and I had ordered a strawberry tart with my drink. Normally when we talked the conversation flowed, today seemed to deviate from that. I had noticed a slight shaking in her hands and I reached out to comfort her. She looked into my eyes across the table, she breathed in as if to start speaking. Her mouth opened but closed without uttering a sound. I worried over what she might say, maybe she did not want to see me any more. When she finally plucked up enough courage to speak, I was shocked to my core. 

Aubrianna looked around the café furtively making sure there was no one close enough to hear. She leaned forward and speaking in hushed tones that caused me to move closer to hear her. I was mesmerised by her perfect lips and had to force myself to listen. Seeing the words form on her lips seemed to imbue them with more power, the nervous way her tongue moistened them. I knew that I loved her then, every detail of her beautiful face was etched in my mind. I looked up into her eyes an saw a tear forming as she confessed to being a deviant. I was so shocked, I could not believe what I was hearing. Pushing my chair away from the table I stood and told her I needed to get some air. I needed time to think. 

This was how I found myself stood looking into these dark waters. I watched the flow of the water and the little eddies did not calm me as they normally did. I thought about deviants and I could not believe this woman was one. I wanted to be with her, I had imagined the possibility of spending my life with her. How could I do it though? How could I be with someone who did not like whips and chains? I mean it was not normal!. I banged my fist down on the wall and let out a yell of frustration. I tried to imagine courting her with a flower, I had heard rumours that roses were popular. There were clubs that catered for this new thing, places where you could spend a night with just the two and have no toys or bondage. It was impossible to imagine a relationship without a 'safe word'. How could people sustain a relationship without the help of friends in satisfying each other?. 

All of these thoughts went through my head. I wondered if I could live life as a deviant, running the risk of being attacked and cast out by my friends. As I considered all of these facts I felt a peace that had eluded me descend. I wanted Aubrianna and everything else was irrelevant. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialled her number. I heard her voice still thick with emotion from the tears I had caused her to shed. I told her that I wanted her, Deviant or not. I would try her way because I loved her.

Tuesday, 5 February 2013


Beautiful i Will always find you,
An inspiring and uplifting sight.
My feelings unbidden they grew,
Launched to the sky they took flight.
You are wonderful its time you knew,
In a dark world you are the light.

Sunday, 3 February 2013

Poem: Bed

The bed is the master,
always to be obeyed.
It's requests to be actioned,
but never delayed.
I ask of its greatness,
hope not to be dismayed.
An invite to the warmth,
Its snuggle filled glade.
Company is requested,
For games to be played.
But once in its power,
forever will be enslaved.