nida's blog: "my poetry"

the ray of the sun kisses my skin. i look up into the blue eyes of the sky, searching for storm clouds of trouble in the distance. the sensitive ears of the trees listen to the musician's song rock the wind with a whisper to lay back and relax, as the lyrics haunt with a deep knowledge. the sky forgot to spend the gold fleck pieces, that dots the blue with enlightment and joy. the smells of body heat hits the senses like a lost toy of days gone by. the sun dial ticks away with a stem of lust that shadows the time. the ray of the sun kisses my skin again...i should stop before i get burned... how much more damage can one take before feeling the tan deepen to a burn. the sweat is building like a river. i back away long enough to get a breath..and i go back for more,as i pray in a whispered breathless sigh one more kiss. strong touches can be damning, but given the right spots the ray can't miss. thank the Gods i had the right clothes on to keep me as safe as i can be with a strong touches of the ray. the ray of the sun kisses my skin...i watch the sunfire go into sunset with a wink and a smile with a promise more days of the ray will come again. as the sunfire goes the body heat goes with it, but the memories linger... i invited more, now i am just praying that the RSVP comes back in soon with a better place to wash away the tan lines.

How the spirits move Free spirits, two move through life with the grace of a hurricane’s tail wind. Ever tasting, the spice that is ……variety. reaching for the unseen, but ever spoken, just ……… beyond reason’s touch. Spirits move, they swim in and out of reality, still without warning they ram into each other, head long. At first the two look confused, stand off, back away. they bump again, only to find that they are linked by common threads loneliness …….fate ……lust ….. passion …….love. They mingle, the two touching mind and body twisting deeper into each other’s souls like the spinning of a child’s toy. Only to move in different worlds to live separate lives. Still there, but not the years mean nothing, between them, yet everything. And the bond grows ……. like time, And the spirits move. May the spirit always move you. By Anita L. Hart