Breath
Rise
Write
Sometimes burning passionate gut filled emotions take over
You know what then?
I write
Write
Write
Like a picalo in a Brahms song
Spelt wrong I’m sure
Just Val having a bad Spell
If life was a linear process and breathing was one thing
Sex with a lady I love
Sitting on a deck of a dock
Fishing
And writting
Writing Rules
Then fishing
Then arosing my lady to the heights
Blowing off the roof
Then
Maybe
Time
To
Breathe!
Now if it were making love
I would write in my head as I fished
Then as she lay resting after having her mad
People never truly get writers
We write because our words bare witness to our hearts and spirits
We are not Elder Abusers unless tools of family
Even our suposed love ones refuse the ability to really see us!
That’s pretty damn good
Not Walter Farely good!
Nestle in a down comforter
Nude
I would stand in a corner of our bedroom
Imagining her beauty
Engraving her in my mind
Then on my bad knee I would kneel
Beside her bed
I gently touch her face and think
I love you
I already ache for when your gone
In my heart I hold her while she sleeps.
Low crawl out of our room
My two dogs would be waiting silently
As I push the door close
Sit beside the door Chester and Theodore ketching my tears
The last thing I heard as the door shut
I heard Wolf
Before I made my move to the study
Check the fires
Our door in the dark
Opens
Jaqculine’s hand tossed my hat off
She tells me she missed me
Says my new legal name Whitewolf
Offers me her hand
I rise
The door shuts
Then opens
Go on…
Chester and Theodores toes are heard on the wood floor
Door closes
Only to open again
A voice is heard not mine
‘Go on you too, two lambs, a Tom cat named Thomas, female Miss Emily and two rabbit, a wolf pup,fox kit and racoon
Hop and walk out
I say to Jack that’s mean!
I open the door
Everyones guarding the door
Jack calls me
A robe hits the floor
I bid you all
Good night!
Val's Whitewolf Books 