skimming stones

Tags

couples, erotic fiction, kissing, love, poem, summer

The road opened up as we skirted within the hills
rolling eastward toward the coast
a line of heat sat above the bonnet
reminding us of summer
of the need to swim
to litter ourselves upon the northern coast
our home for the coming months

Jack was tired
the riverbank approached slowly
as he idled her down before parking in the shade
to rest

I was skimming stones as the sun crept behind Glasshouse Mountain
the car door waking my sleepy driver
I rolled into him
kissing him on the neck
before resting his hand beneath my short dress

Pushing his fingers
hard against my crotch
unzipping my love to meet his flesh
warm and slender
tender to the touch
my mouth caressing his manhood
sucking into his soul
my tongue sliding lower
to capture him whole

It’s getting late darling
we still have some driving to do
he said now with a sigh
before lifting up my face
to kiss my now warm lips
gently removing his fingers
across my soft smooth hips

that dust filled day

Tags

beautiful girl, dog, dust, heat, poem, rain, skirt, summer, young man

Feet
footsteps’
blowing the shadows away from the ant hills
the raindrops
barking through the holes
uncovering the dirt
washing his hands
opening his face
he walked westward

Two rusty nails
peeled back the opening irons roof
lying quietly in the corner
ears folded
dusty paws
one tongue
wet with saliva
drops to dust
he looked eastward

Her skirt fell to the chicken wires gate
the wind catching the cleft of her shirt
her neck hot
sweaty
then damp
her torso smothered
gripping
and flat
she gazed northward

One man
a dusty hat
the young red dog
his sun drenched kennel
the beautiful girl
her youthful face
that dust filled day

Sarah’s Secret, by Sasha Holden

Tags

beach, beauty, ebook, erotic, erotic fiction, love, Relationships, romance, summer

 

 

$3.99

Author: Sasha Holden
Genre: Heterosexual
Publication Year: 2016
ASIN: B01JKOPGV4
https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01JKOPGV4

So you are beautiful and sexy, yet lonely. You just want love, affection. But when you can’t reach between the bedroom walls into the bed of your best friends husband, with whom you live, it becomes more than love and affection you lust after. What do you do when the thirst you crave can’t be quenched? Set on the beautiful Australian Coastline, maybe, just maybe, all your dreams will come true. This stylishly written romantic tale of three lives intertwined escalates over time into one of not just passion, lust and desire. Out of nowhere the unexpected arrives to release unparalleled scenes of erotica that sweep you away on a wave of ecstasy. Confused as you are, vulnerable and uncertain as you may be, you know deep down in places only you have visited, that he has been looking. There’s only one problem. While he’s been noticing, your best friend has been protecting. She’s not about to give up everything she’s worked hard for. And why should she. She has him, you just want him. Or should I say, need him. Three’s a crowd. Or is it?

Christmas at Nans

Tags

boots, children, christmas, country, countryside, family, houses, life, poem, poetry, rural, summer

The window in the front room
spanning over acres of light
encompassing years of family
impaired only by a rather obtuse chip
Nan said the chip was the result of a rifle shot
Uncle Murray put it down to the mower’s stone

Outside galahs passed gently overhead
the farmers moved onward’s
over their crops of green
sprayers gave thirst to newborn plants
whilst over the river the township lay still

The church towering over the houses affront
the chairs inside they sang of tradition
of rich rural land filled with hard working souls
the piano played softly caressing the day

An easy southerly breeze overflowed the stockman’s seat
where sat the veranda
the old man and his dog
boots so proud they stood up on their own
bookshelves
music boxes
paintings of yesteryear

Freshly cut lawns
drew in the meandering trees
all the time above
kept cool by the fans
summer wouldn’t be summer
without Christmas at Nans

transient young men

Tags

grandparents, life, poetry, summer, young man

once upon a time a young man said
the elderly grew old
until all were dead
when the next generation did soon arrive
another century they would survive

yet strangely enough
those who passed
were seldom remembered in younger hearts
their life was beginning
complex and wound
all up in pieces
then tightly bound
as if in a ball
rolling into the future
away from the past

yet on Saturday night
at the veranda’spoetry door
I could see my grandfather’s presence once more
with a summer breeze
against a strong shirt’s arm

he held my hand
before the storm
before the future
had all but arrived
after the past
had been and gone

and my mind cast back
to the transient young man
who suffocated tradition
as he closed the door
on all the grandfather’s
and the generations before

Wind to blow winter’s away

Tags

poem, poetry, seasons, spring, summer, winter

Wind to blow winters away
this day
of light
seasons
far enough to reach into one winter
to peacefully force the coolest breeze
through the open sky into this new summer

Summer
confusing a season of spring
birds of light skirting the boundaries
in this new era

That breeze
blowing again
bringing the flies
drowning out a solitary winter

Winter
where do I travel
where to escape
touching trees
surrounding the sun

Moving but one step ahead
clouds no longer
wind no more
grass to meet summer
echo of shade meeting light
bordering an awakening of water

Hope
reborn
anew
life
summer

beyond the birds

Tags

boys, dad, life, love, mom, parents, poem, poetry, Relationships, summer

Buses then cars clattered on by
Saturday mornings drifted on
the sun wandered slowly
beyond the birds
over the mountain toward spoken our words

Where in the distance I could hear your voice
softly spoken
afar yet near
pinning your hair behind the ear
where our little boy nestled to whisper your name
Mom
he said,
Is summer here now?

I could hear but faintly your answer move on by
Perhaps little one
if not today
it will be soon
gathering up the sun
and circling the moon

Either way
I’ll still love just the same
If only Saturdays stayed all morning
and the future never came

a lazy summers day

Tags

breeze, country, poem, poetry, summer

The wind blew the Jacarandas southern tip
aimlessly into a shelter
standing to the yards northern corner
tin surrounding the shelter was not moved
by the infrequent gusts

Inside water lapped eagerly from side to side
within the red buckets lid
as two ducks gathered themselves
against each other’s yellowy coats
hiding from a world which they only ever courted

Green grass sat catching falling leaves
while flowers ebbed then flowed catching moments of breeze
voices lingered slowly from inside their fly screen door
making wine then food obey
on this lazy summers day

Where white butterflies caressed the sky
then trees above
pushing on
effortlessly
up then down
in this northern country town

the ocean the sea and me

Tags

children, ocean, poem, poetry, souls, summer, surf, trees

the souls of the dead passed me by
in between the moving shells
of another receding tide
time
holding onto their voices
against tree lined peaks
falling into brush
rocks
sand then surf
toward summer

children’s screeches met oncoming waves
between red and yellow flags
as parents gathered
content with their lot
hugging towels
surf craft
buckets filled with sand

youngsters
washed ashore
then pulled back out
crashing head long into another wave
as the ocean spoke
then drew out to sea
taking the souls of the dead
the surf
but not me

The seaside

Tags

beach, creative writing, poem, poetry, sand, seaside, summer, surfing, waves

She didn’t really sleep
just dozed
rolling on her side
before resting again
like the small wave unable to reach the shoreline
gathering back up and moving again out to sea
then meandering north to another beach.

Trees covered people
or children
to lazy to wear hats
as they jumped and splashed their way into the deep
flags continued to wave at him
beyond a glass like exterior
reflecting an outside world
removed and distant

To far away to divine
to lazy to feel challenged
he rested
until those running feet and high pitched scream’s wound back his clock
to where blue filled days washed with palm laden headlands surrounded his soul
silencing the questions
bringing to life her face
she awoke, with eyes smiling
before lying on her side
his side.

The last wave rider stretched sideways then up
toward another morning with pink filled sky
of broken mountains, covered with fog
riders closer to shore accepted smaller waves
dancing toward the palm trees ashore
on shorter fibreglass craft
he sat upright
hands on knees
surveying two smaller islands to the east
where sunlight lay
a seagull followed a fishing boat north
then returned
only to land
where the wet sand meets the dry
the water line returned again to the ocean

Leaving the seagull to ponder on a dry, softer bed of sand
lulling over another wave, the furthest from shore
he waited
only to sit up again
arms upon knees
now his wave approached
white water washing him up

He stood to search for an unbroken face
a glassy crest
upwards then down
pirouetting aloft
fast then slow
slowly met by that white water again
with it’s ever racing speed, crushing, surging, and swallowing

Beach
breakfast
salt
salty hands
the last wave slept
amidst a seagull lined shore
beneath that cluster of surfers
inviting him to return
to surf