Behind closed doors ~

She sat in the corner of that darkened room long after he’d gone; wine flowed and the candle flickered, shadows matching their rhythm danced wildly across the walls. If she breathed deeply his scent filled her senses, closed her eyes and felt his hungry touch; words poured forth, steady as tears that fell, she conjured

Somewhere in the Night

Light fades with flickering flames Balmy breeze wafts through the trees Pleasant shivers blanket the flesh Akin to receiving a lover’s kiss The heady scent of gardens perfume Wraps round making her swoon Leaves a warmth inside her heart As Cheshire Moon smiles upon this night And with the rise of the morning sun That

From the Ether

Inspiring regularly Teaching effortlessly Whether known or not Deepening my sense Of awareness From turbulent grey To brilliant blue Connecting and shifting My insight and mood Needing nothing Wanting even less Resonating in every form A constant underlying hum Understanding rebirth Our code of existence Death a mere part Of the universal process Cathartic epiphanies

Illumination

He rose from the depths of her unconscious mind, like smoke drifting from the unknown, wrapping himself around and penetrating her soul. “I feel you…I feel you”, she whispered inside; as dawns early light crept in, illuminating her senses, and softly he faded as morning’s mist, just as she reached to bring him to her.

les amoureux

When the world around grows dark and quiet, finally coming to rest in silence; two souls come together, intertwine and mesh with the night. Those are the best hours. Those are their hours . . . ©2013 jillterry Jillterry.com

Master destroyer

I hit the create button, which pops open a bright new page, and sit staring at the blankness; eventually adjusting the screen, for my eyes are beginning to burn. The door is open adjacent to my desk and offers fresh warm air and the sounds of nature, stirring in the woods just a step away;

PAINTING PICTURES

Standing in the waiting line, minding no one’s business but her own, when a voice too familiar spoke out from behind her; “I used to have that all the time,” she heard him say; “It’s even better than it looks,” he finished with a chuckle; as her body tensed and her blood ran cold; knowing

Exquisite Wandering

Languidly she lingers On the wave of desire He secretly built Within the walls Of her heart Outside the restraints Of self inflicted bonds Passion awakens The slumbering Temptress Holding a sense of wonder Emerging from dark silence In search of the one would satisfy Her insatiable burning hunger Witnessing this Her final release He

Free Willy

He had a strange Fascination With white silk Stockings Impressed With no one But himself Obsessed With his own Death Romanticizing Fantasizing Succeeding Tightly drawn Around his neck How I wish I hadn’t have Left them