Beautiful nails all shiny and pink.
Delicate skin, soft and smooth.
These hands of gentle grace longing for the curve of a muscle.

The tender finger tip lightly tracing the edge of a masculine line,
as though the finger were the tip of her tongue.
A gentle tease of delight for both.

The feminine softness of a supple palm
pressed against the firmness of an urgent need
transmits desire from one to the other and back again.

The sense of touch;
A marvelous gift designed exquisitely
for sensual sharing.

A long day of running errands, looking here and there for things you think you need. It’s tiring to hobble around going slowly pretending you are looking but you are really resting.
The body gives out far too easily. Not giving a care that the mind still thinks you are 30 something or even younger. Back when that was true, 56 was old. Not anymore. Perspectives change as life does. I guess it is suppose to be that way.
Now more than when I was younger I have time to notice things like the odd colour of the atmosphere. It isn’t just the sky, it’s all the air around too. It’s a golden closeness, not just what is above the trees. Everything seems to glow with a richness. A cluster of leaves glows. The green grass, a plush carpet. And the sky! The sky is the colour of butterscotch pudding. Rich, deep, warm, sweet, slowly flowing. All those things have nothing to do with colour really but yet the sky is that colour. The sense of sight awakes al the others.
The mind is an amazing thing, allowing you to form and feel even when there is nothing there but air. Being human is a remarkable opportunity.

Connie Buchan
August 31, 2014

We take it for granted,
Our youth, our health, our freedom to live as we wish.
And then we start to age.
Our health gives way to a more bitter dish.

I guess we should be thankful
For the many good years we’ve already had,
Living our life
The way we wanted. It’s sad.

Sad to think this is it.
I still feel young and am young, really.
Now there are limits.
How I wish I still could live my life freely

August 17, 2014
Connie Buchan

My ankles are swollen now thanks to you buggers.
I didn’t even do anything but you satisfied your hungers.
We are sitting enjoying a glorious day
And in you buzz, determined to have your own way.
You hide your nests gradually making them bigger
And then their where abouts it’s our job to figure.
You can ruin a picnic or a leisurely walk
And drive a hiker to jump off a dock.
Under the water is a place you won’t go,
But we are air-breathers and this fact you know.
Cleaning up carrion and devouring our pests
But why come after me while I’m having my rests?
You’re nasty, Mr. Wasp; you and your stinger.
I hate you. I fear you. You’re a real hum-dinger!

She loved her children and theirs and theirs,
Quick to comfort woes and troubled cares.
Many years a devoted wife
Sharing with Walter, a bless-ed life.
Her Faith was strong and pure of heart.
She had Living Praise down to an art.

Cards were a passion and she often won
But never gloated if a trick, you’d none.
Family time was her greatest joy
And she passed that on to every girl and boy.
If you listened carefully you’d hear her wit
And with “Oh Walter!” make him quit.

A loving grandma, wife and mother,
Erna was truly like no other.
Her love of God was often proven
And now her reward waits her in Heaven.
Rest dear soul, your time has come.
A life well lived, a job well done.

~ Connie Buchan, May 9, 2014

A Naked Write I write today
Open and free, 'tis my way.
To pen what comes without a thought
And let it grow, love it or not.

I often write this way, unfettered.
A later look would have verse bettered.
But the cleansing way it makes me feel
Is the starting point from which I heal.

So today this poem is laid out bare
And I begin the day without a care.
Free to open and let air in
That is where I choose to begin.

Warming sun
Ending cold
Sunlight shines
Winter's old.
Yeah SPRING!!!!

Party    Like     It    Is     2013
Because     It     Is,    But     Barely.

I was at the top of my game. I succeeded at everything I tried. Whatever I wanted, I got. When I spoke, I was heard. The world was mine.  Or so I thought. People would tell me I was smart and could do anything. I was fearless. I heard it so many times I began to believe it myself.

Defining yourself by the reality seen through the eyes of others is the most distorted view of your own life that you can have. Living up to the kind of person others think you are is the hardest gig and eventually the show will close. With a crash!

For me it was many years ago now, but when the curtain fell it was with a deafening boom. Sooner or later you have to be honest with at least yourself about what you really are, how you really feel, what you can really do, what you are really afraid of.

It’s funny. You think that nakedness, that vulnerability, is the thing you fear the most but once you are exposed, out there for all to see, you realize that it is the most free you will ever feel in your whole life.

Yeah, you might hear bad things about yourself. Others may judge you.  But that is other people’s perceptions, their own insecurities. No one is perfect. Not you and certainly not your critics. The difference is that you’ve figured that out and they haven’t.

The good thing is you find you are not alone. You are truly loved just for you by people who genuinely care about you.

Being human, you are not perfect.
Almost, but even you are slightly flawed.
I turn a blind eye to what I choose not to see.
It is only your perfection I applaud.

This is a foolish way for me to think.
I know you are just like anyone else.
Sometimes giving to others,
Sometimes keeping for yourself.

I really know you are like all of us.
Just a person trying to be.
We struggle, we fall, we get back up.
It’s only ourselves perfection won’t free.

Perched on a pedestal, up so high
You see where the rest of us have failed.
You are afraid to fail yourself.
But no one can live up to the you that you have put out there.

You have been a fool, a liar, your whole life a lie.
Will the real you ever step forward?
Is there a real you?
I doubt it. If there is no one, not you, not me, no one, could recognize it.

I am to the point of pitying you now.
What a waste of a life.
What a waste of all that you could have had.
All that you have every wanted. And you turned your back on it .... afraid.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

I am writing here, just off the cuff.
Some have a problem. I don't find it tough.

It's not very late but I find my mind slow.
Soon it will be off to bed I do go.

My eyes, they are heavy. Hard to keep open.
In slumber land soon, and dreamin', I'm, hopin'.

I like when I dream and best when remembered
Walls of protection easy surrendered.

I dream in colour, a rainbow is painted
Life as I want it, not reality tainted.

So I'll say goodnight, see you tomorrow.
Shut out the world and all of its sorrow.

The next day will dawn, all shiny and new
A good time for me and I hope also you.

You came along all bathed in light
Loaded bow with which to smite
Your aim was true, I took the pierce
I fell but hard and landed fierce.

The love you sent was welcomed free
By my treasured and by me.
We soon were joined, two hearts as one
Only to have it all undone.

You changed your haloed ring of gold
To a jester's crown, I am now told.
Far are we from wedded bliss
I remember not the last time we kissed.

Your dart was true, now the poison gone
For now I stand here all alone.
But if I knew then what I know by now
Would I have killed this sacred cow?

I would not have flinched or walked away.
I could not have dodged your hit that day.
I would not stand the one I am
But another's life I'd live a sham.

One cannot say what holds the heart
But to take a chance for love to start
Is the greatest gift known to man
And for that I'll gladly take my stand.

A chance to love and find your heart
To have it struck by Cupid's dart.
To risk a chance to be made a fool
Is all to real and all so cruel.

But to have life soar to endless bounds
That is why we take the rounds.
For to be one's love for ever more
That would end life's final score.

**** you, my lover!
I hate you for what you have not done
And myself for what I have.
But alas, the clock of time does not tick backwards.

I say you made no choice, but you did.
You just didn’t choose me, not as I wanted to be chosen.
Not giving your all to me alone.
Not giving to anyone really, just taking where you could.

You were selfish, I so very stupid.
But I lived with that all this long while.
After having been apart once I said never again
But Again has come…again.

Times change, wants change, settling changes.
This time I make another choice.
I want more but not from you.
Our time has passed.

He sees her strut, legs alight.
His eye she catches, one dreary night.
He sets his snare, he waits her glance.
He'll only get one fleeting chance.

She is quick, herself quite proud
But he seeks her out from the madding crowd.
Her wit is quick, tongue lashing smart.
He knows he'll take her from the start.

His hook does catch, now's a waiting game.
His prize is her, but for to claim.
She'll make a move, he'll wait for that.
For now he watches like a cat.

She says hello, the door is cracked.
He wants her badly, on her scent he's jacked.
To win this prize and make her his
He'll test her hard. Can she pass the quiz?

She struggles well and resists his charm.
Her fear - he means her deathly harm.
He pursues his prey. Knows the prize.
He allows her valiant but feeble tries.

She is out-matched, she sees that quick
But to her plan she tries to stick.
He takes her down on bended knee.
Soon her soul will be set free.

She's confused and scared, he calms her fears
Whispers gently in her ears.
"You know I'll win, I 'm the one.
What I have done can not be undone."

She stops to think of her sealed fate.
The moment to flee has come too late.
She is his forever more.
He takes her in and shuts the door.

Now inside his lair of power
She peers out from gilded bower.
She submits. To him she'll heed
For now her king is all she'll need.

You were one of the first to teach me about value.
You helped me gain independence, little by little.
I shared my desires with you and you helped me to fulfill them.
Sometimes I needed just that little bit more and there you were,
Ready to pitch in and help out.

I remember a smile breaking onto my face with the very glimpse of you,
Your shining face gleaming at me from afar.
Sometimes those you thought were your friends would just toss you away,
But not me, not ever.
I cherish you for everything you are worth and then some.

You have always been unique, different than all the rest I would come across.
You have your own look.
Yes, you may look similar to others in one way,
But with a quick flip you are shining again like only you can.
Time may tarnish your gleam, but no matter how rugged you get you will always be of worth.

Special childhood moments come back to me now.
Holding you in my sweaty little palm, I would fill with excitement
Knowing you were about to deliver to me the sweetness of my dreams.
All I needed was you and maybe a few more of your friends.
And off we’d go to spend a Saturday afternoon in delightful company.

Seniors would push you away, unwanted, undervalued.
They would take one quick glance to see if they recognized you.
Then they would pass you on to a youngster,
As if they had far too much of you to care for more.
But not me, I would swoop you up and run off, delighted.

Now you are to be no more. No replacements.
You will be allowed to discolour and erode with age as so many of your ancestors have done.
But to me, you will always be the highly valued shining copper penny
Who taught me to count, to value goals and how to use money to attain some of them.
And most importantly, how to take the first steps towards my independence.

I hear a song and it rips my heart
I was fine until then,
Or at least I thought I was.
There are just those moments that no one knows about
Not even me, until they slap me in the face.
It isn’t the sorrow that everyone would suspect
So I am able to hide the real reason for only me to know.

James Blunt singing “Good Bye My Lover’ is just a bit too much to bear.
What happens on the day you die?
Unfortunately, I see that as the only way out of this now.
Or is it? I guess I could hope that our passion just fades away but that is so sad too.
Either way, there is no way for me to get what I need.
I have known that for a long time now.
Once I accepted that, I changed what I needed.
That way you could fulfill this new need and you did.
Very well, but even with all that there is still my original need there.
That thirst will never be quenched.
Can I abandon it? Sometimes I think so.
But more times, I think not.

Hanging on, like an empty bird house waiting for spring to arrive
And bring a new crop of visitors who need me.

Hanging on, like last years leaves, not ready to drop from the tree
Even though all the signs are there to tell me I have over stayed my welcome.

Hanging on, like melting snow on a roof top
Slowing losing my grip and falling further and further over the edge.

Hanging on, waiting for your creation would be as difficult as all that
If it weren’t for your messages and my belief in your ability to make it all worthwhile.

How do I know you,
How do I trust?
Is it our love,
Or is it our lust?

I've seen this before
With some other guys
It all ended badly,
Ended in lies.

It's tainting my judgment
Making me scared.
I've dreamed of a future
With you, I have dared.

If it were to shatter,
All to be lost
My heart is the payment.
Can I summon the cost?

My account is but dry,
A copper I've none.
If Fate forces payment
I surely am done.

But if I stay the coarse
And you love me for true,
Happy souls for life,
That's us, me and you.

Something draws you in and you reach out a hand.
Don’t know why, it just happens that way sometimes.
You make a statement and get a response. The smiling kind.
So goes the give and take of acquaintance but there is more.
Sometimes there is a special connection, something you see,
Something the other person sees, feels that builds a friendship.
Laughter is easy, fun. You are you and they are they.
You see some of what indicates so much more.

They see enough to want to learn more, share more, listen more, tell more.
Friendship is a smooth and gliding road; times of great speed and times of coasting pleasure.
We like the ride as we pedal along taking in the warm sunshine,
Delighting in unexpected moments of fun.
Sometimes there are bumps in the road and we even fall over a cliff but there is that hand; that friend’s hand.
The hand that belongs to the person who understands, who cares and tries hard to make us reach up and grab hold.
That friend is a special friend. One who doesn’t give up.  
Sometimes we don’t see our friend a lot or sometimes they are a new friend but a true friend nonetheless.
And sometimes they are a friend we have never actually met but we are close in spite of that.

I am guilty of sometimes not making sure my friends know I value them.
We all let the moments slip by. We have busy lives and we don’t always think.
We don’t always think of how much our friends give us and that to keep the bond strong we have to give back too and make sure they know how special they are to us.
My friends are like my family only better. I didn’t get to pick my family but I picked my friends or they picked me and I am so glad they did.
Whether meeting by accident or by design we have been thrown together and I am so glad we have been.

Way back when, my Grade 1 teacher wrote in my autograph book;
“Make new friends
but keep the old.
One is silver,
The other gold.”

I dream a dream of mighty wings,
And up to the sky I soar.
To look back where I lived once
And ahead, a new world to explore.

My wings are soft but also strong.
They'll hold me in my flight.
I tip and turn, I set the speed
As I travel through the night.

I am safe. No one can see.
Only I know where I've been.
And if they should ask, I tell them nought.
No one will know what I've seen.

For the night is full of secrets untold
That the day not allows to be shared.
But I have dreamt and sailed afar
And looked where no one else has dared.

I can live in this black hole no longer.
I have to find a way to make myself stronger.
If I stay here I am surely done.
I know I have not finished my run.

There is more in store for me to live.
There is more to receive and more to give.
Everyone has there own time to go
And mine is not yet, this I know.

I thought my life was over and through.
Without you it seemed the only thing to do.
But no, it is not meant to be.
There is more time on earth for me.

The will to live is strong and great
To shrink and give up is not my fate.
But to find a way to rise above
And still be close to your sweet love.

I look up from down this closing well
Now wanting to rise from this demon’s hell.
That is the goal for which I strive
To come through the end and make it alive.

No small feat is it to pull yourself through
But to thine self, you must be true.
I want you back with all my heart
But it is not my time to depart.

I see it one day, another road
And on it I will carry my load.
In time the load will be lighter to bear
But no matter how long, it will always be there.

Day by day I’ll make it through
And gradually I’ll learn just what to do.
I’m pulling from deep within my core
To build a life worth living for.

I can’t fix this
Something has gone too wrong
If love were enough
I would have it done.

I can’t fix this.
I feel you slipping away.
Time is getting shorter
And the end is coming soon.

I can’t stop this
Even though I will it to be done.
I hold on tight
And give all I have to you now.

I can’t stop this
What is to be will be.
No matter how frantic the hope
The end is clear to us both.

So we accept this
And we love all we can love
And in that moment is a liftetime
Of moments yet to be.

So we accept this.
Without a word we just know.
Together, as always, we wait.
And together we see it through.

The hype is hard to handle when you’re different than the rest.
Everything focuses on the family in the traditional sense.
But when your world doesn’t look like that, you do your best.
I don’t resent their happiness. I feel no offense.

Looking for small gifts of tenderness and sharing are the tools for me.
My small family feels much bigger when it is the world I see.
So I will make it through another year and on into the next
Looking forward to another year knowing I’ve passed the test.

I have dreamt this dream for several nights now.  It started off in colour; blues, greens, whites and yellows and with only the sound of beautiful piano music and the barest of floors.  Each night the vision grew in detail but faded in colour, until now it is in black, white and gray with the actual colour only implied by my memory of it.

The scene is part of a room, a corner, in a very large and majestic house.  The floor is hardwood with no carpet.  The walls are a very light, warm white with somewhat high ceilings.  I am standing (you cannot see me) looking towards the corner of the room where there are French doors.  The door trim is black.  The doors are open.  It is night and the moonlight is streaming in the doors and in a window, off slightly to the left.  Chiffon curtains frame the doorway and blow in the slight, cool, night breeze.  It is a warm summer’s night and the fresh air is scented with an ocean fragrance.

To my left, just barely in the picture, is a glossy, black baby grand piano.  The ebony of the piano is a sharp contrast to the soft white of the sheer curtains as the breeze wafts them towards the heavenly tones.  The music coming from the piano is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.  The notes reach into my chest and engulf my heart.  The pianist cannot be seen.  He is just out of the frame of my mind’s eye.  My heart tells me it is he.

I awaken from my dream and lie there, still, with my eyes closed.  Not wanting to lose the tranquility, I re-feel the dream again and again.  In the foggy abyss between dreamland and being fully awake, I imagine him sitting at the piano.  His hair falls in loose curls as he is slightly bent over the keys.  His fingers fly over the ivory as he plays with passion and heart.  His love of the music is evident.

He is wearing a crisp, white tuxedo shirt and black morning suit with the tails falling over the back of the piano bench.  He has not yet adorned the formal tie needed to complete the ensemble.  Or maybe he has already removed it.

This is the artist’s private time for peace and composure.  As he closes the piece of music, he raises his face to the moonlight.  His moist eyes glisten in the silver glow.  His face is relaxed and calm.  As he slowly closes his eyes, a soft, contented smile graces his lips and his body sighs.  He has found the completion he seeks, in his music.

Take me in your arms and lift me from this earth
High above the canyon to the towering peaks above.

Cliffs reaching up, up into the brilliant blue sky
Jagged-edged, stark and cold they lead to glorious heights.

Your muscled form, your wanting eyes, your willingness to please
All make me light, allow me to sail as we move together.

Gaining speed as you fly, my wing-ed god, my mythical creature.
Me laying gently curved and cradled in your arms.

Placed on the ledge, gently teetering and open to your knowing touch
To send me over the edge, awaiting, inviting, willing, wanting.

You caress, you invite, you tease me to leap, to dive
Eyes close, let it happen, let it build and all fall into place.

I'm over, off the edge, trusting, enjoying, coaxed into blissful release.
The free fall, the rush, the air, the colours, blue, green, red, silver diamonds sparkle.

Oh to be alive! To know what it is to feel, to live, to lose words, thought.
And to crash! The glorious breakthrough crash with you, into you, around you.

Pierce the surface, white water gushing, open and in....absorbed.
With you, swirling, there to bring me to the surface, to gasp.

Wrapped in your loving arms, wings spread, exhausted
We lie spent, drying in the sun, enveloped in a golden glow.

If I t’were have lived in long ago times
With corsets and uncommon lace.
Where women were seen but seldom well known
And easily kept in their place.

If manners were strict and customs the rule
Where’d that leave a woman like me?
For I am not one to conform to law
When unnecessarily cruel it be.

Those were the days when girls where not taught
But were expected to fill a pure role.
Learning to read and even to write
Less important than a painted on mole.

A society fake with filth underneath
Was reality, no truth did they seek.
For death was at hand if you were cast out.
Your future success very bleak.

The rich set the rules of life’s ***** game
And many corrupted the more.
Positions of power were but a whim
Set by the generations before.

If I lived back then I fear I’d have died
An early and untimely death.
Resisting the pain of my sisters in arm
Ending in my final breath.