Tag Archives: muses


Come down and hug me.

She had missed his message, therefore hurried back towards the hall; the crowd was filtering out in the opposite direction.

As she entered the place, she saw him in the centre of the room, and she stopped a while at the entrance to watch him. The way he talked and laughed with the journalists, the charmer he was for the cameras. He was always meant to be there.

I’m so proud of you.

She was happy to be there, just watching him from the side, smiling to see him the way he was.

A proximity that was near enough, and they could never be closer.

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Filed under emotions, feelings, friends, love, novelette, writing

Train Ride

He checked her out.

Letting his eyes run down the contours of her body slowly and back up.

She knew.

Forced into his full view by the crowd, she had noticed him the minute he glanced up.

The crowd alighted.

A space appeared right between them, stark naked.

New crowd entered.

That space was almost immediately taken, somewhat a relief.

He turned on his tablet and she took in the scene of clinical oblivion, glued commuters and their beloved screens.

As the train pulled in, their eyes met. She gave him a slight smile. He returned it.

Then he rose.

Pushing through, he came towards her.

As he passed, the air between them was all over each other, tangled and desirous, raw and sexual.

He thrusted, harder and urgent; she clawed with the whites of her eyes, gasping, rhythmic.

Then he was gone.

The train picked up speed.

She smiled to herself.


Filed under emotions, feelings, style, travel, writing

Show Me Heaven

Stirred a while now; inspirations finally arrived, muses finally satisfied.

Fingers trail down the
Skin on your neck
My arm rests easy on
Your shoulder back

Draw me a little closer
But never too near
Bring me now in to you
For we are finally here

Hold me with your half-veiled eyes
Part your lips, ravish my soul
Show me heaven, please, my love
Take me, then lead me home.


Filed under emotions, feelings, God, love, music, poetry, style, writing


All these muses, plots and storylines just get to me too much sometimes.

Why do I feel
Have I taken it
Too seriously
For real?

It could never have
Worked out anyway –
I’m taken, and now I know
He is too
Far apart we are.

The curse of the writer
This vivid imagination
A good story requires
While in reality
I crash and burn.

Will I wake up
Feeling alright again?
Perhaps like always,
A blank new page
Another new day.

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Filed under emotions, feelings, poetry, style, writing