The Summer Sod House

The sod house was dark and hot in the August afternoon. The windows shut to disguise that she was there, effectively blocking what breeze there was. Sweat ran from her forehead, down her cheek, and eventually runs between her breasts. The soaked shirt she wore showed the softness beneath, sticking to her shape like a second skin. Her hair long, wet and stringy, fell to her shoulders and across her left eye. She stared at the door, hoping it wouldn’t open, wishing it would.

She rises from her chair and unbuttons the back of her skirt. She lets it fall to the floor revealing her nakedness that was once hidden underneath. Much better, a little cooler, she thought. She turns the back of the chair to the door and straddles it. This should distract them, she thought, for a minute or two. She runs her hand up her thigh and sighs to herself. She misses him, if he was here, she wouldn’t be in this position. Then maybe, if she’d sit like that more often, he might not leave home for so long.

Footsteps on the porch brings her back to reality. She reaches and picks up her colt six-shooter pistol and aimed at the door. The last thing he had done before leaving was teach her how to shoot. Now she has her target in her sights, she slowly squeezed the trigger as the door slowly opened. She dropped her gun as she recognized the figure back lit by the setting sun.

“Amanda?” he said, his eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the cabin.

“Hank.” she yelled as she jumped into his arms, the smell of the trail exciting her more as he held her.

His hands moved down to her bare assets, “I didn’t know you were expecting me.” he whispered as he move his hand around between them. He unbuckled his gun, his pants belt and finally his pants and let them fall to the floor. His hand then started to make her moan. He laid her on the table and remembered why he hurried back. Their rhythm began to move the table across the dirt floor where they fell into a sweaty heap as they exploded in utter excitement.

“Oh, by the way,” she said, “Mom has come to visit.

Why I Don't Write Poetry - Part 11

I look to the west and see the east.
What's the meaning of this weird beast?
Who can respond to such a quest?
I have no answer, not a guess.

I look up and only see down.
There lies that lazy ole hound.
I wandered to the kitchen for a snack
Not walking forward, but walking back.

My world is in a tizzy
My head spins all dizzy.
Oh look, the answer I found
My bifocals are turned upside down.

Move Over Mario

If you want to have some fun, take whatever you're driving and go autocrossing. Find an event near you and put the petal to the metal. It really is fun, even in a "family car" like my CTS. So go smoke the tires, make them scream, and you'll find you'll have a big ole smile on your face, just like I did.

Why I Don't Write Poetry - Part 10

Tis the night,
Or maybe the early morn.
Twilight's beams prevail.

The earth slumbers
In an drowsy trance
Sleeping beneath the veil.

Will the morning come
With sunlight filling the sky
The breeze waves the wheat.

Night passes,
Day conquers the dark
Blood coursing through my veins.

Slumber inspires
Revives the senses
Strengthens the will

In the light I wander
Looking for what
I may never know.

Something Different About This Night.

She jerks awake in the night, it has become her nightly ritual. The only warmth in her bed is from her own body, still she reaches over to where he would be laying. A deep sign comes from her deep inner soul, thirsty for his touch. Tonight seems different, she rises from the bed and goes to her second story window. Sleep has overtaken her town at this hour of the morning, not even a stray cat was moving. She stands there peering into the darkness, the moonlight embracing her in it's glow. She looks east, and her dreams cover the thousands of miles to where duty has taken him. Tonight she feels his presence with her, she feels as if his arms were around her once more. She runs a finger over her cheek, as he always did, her eyes close as the sensation trickles in her body. Her hand drops to the bare skin just below her neck and continues until her hands cups both breasts. She stands there for a few minutes and opens her eyes to look upon the darkness of the night.

He sits hunkered down in a fox hole, enemy shells bursting in the tree tops all around him. He pulls her picture out of his helmet and gazes upon it. He smiles at the memory of that day at the beach, she looked so young and beautiful in her new swimsuit. Now instead of sand beneath his feet, it was mud and blood. He looks at her smiling at him, her eyes filled with mischief, her hands on her hips, in her best Betty Grable pose. He reaches out and runs his finger over her cheek, just like he had done a thousand times during this war. He continues down with his fingers encircling each breast, his mind thousands of miles away, back in his bed, back besides her. His heart felt as if it would burst, it was so filled with loneliness, so filled with desire for her. Thoughts he had thought a thousand times run through his mind, but tonight something was different.

She tries, but sleep never returns. Her soul was in turmoil. Her body rebelling against all common sense. The hairs on her arms were standing on end. Yes, she thought, there is something different about this night.

The medic pulled her picture from his hand, his eyes still open, still staring at her beauty. The medic looks at it and then puts it in his pocket, he'd see that she would get it back. The medic looked at him lying there in the foxhole. One small wound right over the heart. One small piece of shrapnel was all it took it seemed to burst his heart. Another set of dog tags, another family to notify. Yes, there is nothing different about this night.

Because Of Him

Laughter.
He was always surrounded by laughter.
He was the cause of laughter.
Not at him
Because of him.

Everyone's friend,
Close as a brother.
Always positive
Even during the negative.
Because of him.

Now he died alone
In a cold dark empty house
No one to check on him
No one bothered to care
Because of him.

Don't know the changes
That he must have gone through
Don't know the reasons
No one cared. Could it have been
Because of him.

The end wasn't fair
The end was way too soon.
My friend, my mentor, my class clown.
You've taken a big part of my heart
Because you were you.

The Farmer's Widow

This is another email joke that I just had to share with y'all.........


A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife. She was a very good-looking woman and determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand.

Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk.

She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.

He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching.

For weeks, the two of them worked, and the ranch was doing very well.

Then one day, the rancher's widow said to the hired hand, "You have done a really good job, and the ranch looks great. You should go into town and kick up your heels." The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one Saturday night.

One o'clock came, however, and he didn't return.

Two o'clock and no hired hand.

Finally he returned a round two-thirty, and upon entering the room, he found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, waiting for him.

She quietly called him over to her.

"Unbutton my blouse and take it off," she said.

Trembling, he did as she directed. "Now take off my boots."

He did as she asked, ever so slowly.. "Now take off my socks." He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her boots.

"Now take off my skirt."

He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the fire light.

"Now take off my bra." Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor.

Then she looked at him and said, "If you ever wear my clothes into town again, you're fired."