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Connie Buchan Oct 2013
There will come a day one of us will pass on.
I have pondered the mourning.
Friendship’s tear is all that is allowed
But a lover’s sob breaks the heart.

If I cannot mourn you as one so cherished
Then I do not wish to mourn you at all.
I may not wish it but it will come.
Hopefully as a mere memory of past hopes.

We are yet to know
But what I do know I do to ease that pain.
For to lose you all at once
Is too much to bear.

I will let go of the
‘What we could have had’
And hopefully that will help me build the
‘Everything I’ve ever wanted.’

Then when the time comes to say a final goodbye
I will have a warm heart and loving arms to comfort me.
Even though I know it will not help.
Moving on now hopefully will.
Connie Buchan Oct 2013
I can only hope you are watching, like they say you are.
That way you will see the good that I do and not just the bad.
I have my moments on both ends of the spectrum.
That is how you made me, or so they say.
It is a good thing we are not judged on one snapshot in time
But rather on our whole body of work.

Are you watching?
Do you see me?
The good and the bad?
And do you love me anyway?
They say you do.
They say you always will.

If you see me when I don’t take the time to do a job to my best ability
I hope you are also watching when I later spend extra time to fix it.
When I rush through my day and cut others short
I hope you also know when I help the lost stranger in the street.
If I love someone who is not mine to love
Are you aware that I also love those who are unloved in our society?

Are you watching?
Do you see me?
The good with the bad?
Do you love me anyway?
They say you do.
They say you always will.

The good deeds do not erase the bad choices I make.
I know that. There is no room to make a deal.
I will do what I do. Live my life and then live, or rather die, with the consequences.
I try my best but sometimes I fail. That is what it means to be human.
Some days I am more human than other days.
But still I would choose no other way to be.

Are you watching?
Do you see me?
The good with the bad?
Do you love me anyway?
They say you do.
They say you always will.

Are they right?
Are you watching?
Connie Buchan Oct 2013
She turns on the water and tips the bottle of bubble bath. The syrup flows a slow stream out the end of the bottle and slides into the steaming liquid. The bubbles swell and fill the tub.

Returning to the stereo she picks a CD and hits play. James Blunt will be the man of the hour to serenade her in her sensuous delight. "All The Lost Souls" seems somehow fitting tonight and having felt the urgency in some of his songs and the wanton plea in others she believes him to be the perfect choice for tonight.

The cupboard is opened and she reaches for a larger than necessary wine glass, the romantic one she likes to use for a long soak, an indulgence designed solely for herself.

Striking the wooden match on the side of the box, 2 candles are lit; one for the counter and the other open flame to dazzle and dance on the edge of the tub. The glow is enough to light her way as her eyes quickly adjust. Pupils growing wider, breath growing slower, anticipation wets her.

Placing the glass of white wine in the corner edge of the tub she lets her satin robe fall to the floor. The white fabric puddles on the rich brown tile as she steps from its folds and into the soft awaiting bubbles that fill the tub to the brim. She slowly lowers herself into the billowing cushion and feels the searing heat torch her skin. She knows the heat will dissipate so she tolerates the almost too hot water in the beginning.

The bubbles are full around her womanly curves, engulfing her, tickling her skin as they break in movement. She sinks in fully, releasing a long relaxing sigh. Her eyes twinkle in the dancing candle light as it bounces off the bubbles and the shiny walls of the tub. Sipping the chilled wine her body finds relief from the hot water. Slipping it down her throat and resting the cool glass on her dampened breast.

As she slides and rolls in the water the bubbles weaken and break. The flickering flame exposes glistening skin as it is visible through the openings in the bubbled shell. A raised leg, the soft mound of a breast, the ***** of a shoulder, the curl of a lock of hair silhouette in the candle light. Knees bent she pulls herself toward the end of the tub and gently smiles as the water caresses her skin while she pushes away. She runs her hands over her body, silky from the bubble bath but her hottest parts slippery of their own accord. Wet before but more wet now.

She hears a slight sound and turns to the door. He is standing there, silently watching her. How long has he been there? What had his gaze enjoyed? Not that it isn't ultimately all his to enjoy anyway. But now that he is there she shall play out her private time to his audience. He loves how she is confident in her own sexuality, how she finds enjoyment with the body she has been given and how she freely gives it to him. It is moments like these that he could explode for her in lust but hangs on not wanting the magic to end.

He steps to the tub and hands her the glass with the last sip of wine, watching as it cools her and slides down her throat. He holds the over sized bath sheet open for her and she steps from the tub. Folding her in the soft cotton he wicks away just enough of the water to stop her from dripping. A breeze coming in the window skims her damp skin and her ******* harden, fully *****.

She is about to get ***** all over again. It's a good thing she is washable.
Connie Buchan Oct 2013
You’re killing me.
Don’t you believe it?
Don’t you see it?
Don’t you care?

This world you have made for me
One day, it will be bare.

The greed of man
Has taken over
Without giving
A second thought.

Our planet can not take this much.
Its health just can’t be bought.

Once it’s gone,
It’s gone for good
The animals
And the plants.

It’s up to you to make them stop
So listen to the rants.
Connie Buchan Oct 2013
I sit by candlelight with one so rare.
A talent, warm heart, vision so fair.
These are the days of warmth and light
To keep faith strong on a winter’s night.

He who has this gift to give
Shares with all, his life to live.
For age would fool with all his wisdom
One so young shines on this kingdom.

So wait I shall, my anxious heart to hold
Great joy when he later will unfold
His work, for all to receive with joy
From this man who was once a boy.
Connie Buchan Oct 2013
They were only words 'til I heard you sing them,
They were only thoughts 'til you understood them.

You have coloured my mind with your emotion and voice.
I can never go back. I do not have a choice.

I don't see the world the same anymore.
You've entered my skin, every cell, every pore.

It isn't just you, it's all you've brought here to me;
New friends, lots of fun, a dream yet to be.

For this I am thankful, no words can express.
It is you, I would now, try to impress.
Connie Buchan Oct 2013
The cat tippy toes along the edge of the grass
Being sure to place each foot gently on the brick
That attempts to hold back the grass from growing
Into the flower bed.

The leaves have turned and fallen as the days have gotten colder.
They litter the lawn with their gold, rust and orange hues.
The dogs play toys and other evidence no longer visible beneath
The crispy carpet.

I will have to get out there and clear all that away before
The days get too uncomfortable to be enjoyable for yard work.
This time of year is always busy with winter preparations and
Summer’s remembering.

It just dawned on me; this is the first change of season
I have not been sad and anxious, that I can remember.
I wonder what that’s all about.  Not sure but
I like it...a lot.
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