Your image dances through my mind, smothering my thoughts,
And teasing me with memories.

Your love fills my heart ,
and dances through my veins,
warming my body and sparking my soul.
  
I want you at the most inappropriate times.
In ways that may surprise you.
As often as possible.

All because of a kiss.

I dance to my own music,
beat my own drum,
slay my own dragons,
I’ve been called a pioneer,
a savage,
a witch, and *****.
I’m okay with that.
I’m safe in the knowledge
that I’m true to myself.
I chose my path and, it suites me.
I’ve forged rivers
and
climbed mountains
to be who I am.
A woman perfectly flawed
and
permanently, wild.

I am a chooser.
I choose to live wild.
I choose to be happy.
I choose to live in peace.
I choose kindness.
I choose empathy.
I choose understanding.
I choose motherhood.
I choose laughter.
I choose love.
Everyday I choose.
I don’t just let it happen.
I choose.
I’m a chooser.

I never really appreciated the women who went before me.
I have always been surrounded by strong, beautiful, and courageous women.
Never understanding the sacrifices, they made to be who they were.
They were and are Warrior’s.
Women rights activist, labor organizers, Lawyers, Judges, Senators, librarians, teachers,
church ladies, pagans, witches, and *******.
I have learned from them all.
What you ask do these women have in common.
They all dared to be different.
Dared to be true to whom they were created to be.
To challenge convention.
To not only walk to a different drummer,
But to beat their own **** Drum.
I beat my own drum, dance to my own music.
and
slay my own dragons.
And owe it all the those who went before me.
The Warriors and Devine Women who made the choice
to be
Warriors not Victims.
And taught me the choice was mine and that my choice will define how I face each day.
Warrior or Victim

I’ve come to believe
that wild is my favorite color,
my favorite song,
and,
my favorite look.
I will no longer tap myself down,
or
conform to the constrains of polite society.
For in reality society is not polite.
It seeks
to control and tame wild in all things.
And,
I will not be tamed.

You don’t know me but,
You should never judge a book by Its cover.
You tried to take me down, and I fooled you.
You thought I was weak but I’m stronger than I look.
You thought, she’s just an old woman with no fight left.
Fooled you again, I’m fierce, time tested, and battle scared.
You see an old woman.
But I’m a warrior, who knows how to fight, *****.
You only see, what I let you see.
You know nothing of the uneasy truce I have with my demons.
Fooled you again.
See when the demons descend, they bring pizza and we party.
You don’t see me dancing with them.
You don’t see kiss them good night,
And then send them on their way.
You think I’m weak,
But,
I’m a warrior.
I fight to the bitter end.
You ought to know.
The best stories are old classics.

As the moon pulls the tide to the shore,
My heart pulls me to you.
Try as I might to pull myself back into this world,
I cannot.
My feelings are too strong.
The magnetic pull you have on my heart, sends
Me reeling.
I’m only genuinely happy,
Wrapped in the safety of your loving arms.
With you I’m completely free.
You accept my Gypsy soul,
No questions asked.
Your love is unconditional,
And without limits.
More than I’m entitled to and more then I deserve.
I love you today, tomorrow, forever.

I live a life of wild.
Of wild wind
Of tall trees,
Rushing waters,
And red dragonflies.
I wander through fields
of wild Iris’s hidden by
Tall ferns and sweet daisy’s
I hear the laughter of the creek as it meanders to the sound. The call of the gold finches catch my attention
As they dance by  caught up
In the ritual of courting.
At night the strawberry moon smiles wishing me a goodnight and the stars shine like millions of fireflies.
Bright and out of reach.
From the outside looking in
My life may seem simple lacking excitement,
But I live a life of wild
Of wild wind
Of tall trees
Rushing waters
And red dragonflies.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I want a life that is wild, rare,
beautiful, and passionate.
A life that allows me to be me,
I want to embrace my Gypsy soul.
If that offends you, then I’m not for you.

If your offended when I throw back a
whiskey or three so be it.
I’m not a typical women.
I love to wander,
I enjoy the adventure of being lost.
  
I want to live a life of no regrets,
I want to try new things.
If I don’t like it oh well.
What does it matter,
I’ll try something different later.

I don’t want to be the person,
who never lives.
Because
they’re afraid of dying.
I don’t fear death,
But,
I do fear not living.

Out my window there is nothing but wild.
The river rushes white the trees sway in the wind.
I hear the rain on the roof, as I curl up in the corner pen in hand.
My desire is to write you a love letter, but the words won’t come.
They all seem small and impotent.
They don’t convey what’s in my heart,
what I know is true, I love you.
I fear I’ll fail you, disappoint you, or worse yet lose you.
These are things I never want to happen.
But I also know it’s inevitable.
Just as the sun will rise, I will fail.
But with as much grace as I can mustard,
I will pick myself up dust myself off and try again.
Mama didn’t raise no quitter.

I long for time with you,
time just to be ourselves,
time get to know each other again.
Where different people now.
No longer young but not truly old.

When we were young life so was full of promise,
It held so many possibilities.
It was all,
Do I go left or right North or south?
Or…. should I just stand still and love where I am.

Now
Life goes by at warp speed.
Hours seem like minuets, minuets like seconds,
Weeks like days, months like weeks,
In the shake of my head a year has gone by.
Life is reminding me that time waits for no one.

I’m so done with mediocre.
So, I’m about to get selfish.
I’m going to spring for the good chocolate.
I’m drinking top shelf,
I’ll dance when the music moves me.
I’ll set by the river in the sunshine.
And,
I’ll find my passion.

Mama was a singer a good one too.
She was a beauty a small redhead with an evil temper.
She always believed she’d be famous someday
and
if times had been different, she may have been,
but it was the fifties
and
well Mama didn’t even drive.
But oh,
She loved Elvis the man the myth the legend and the music.
I can remember Mama swaying to his music,
calling him the,
King  
Daddy gathering her in his arms,
setting her on his knee saying sing to me Bobby.
Her favorite song “Love me Tender”
a song I heard every day until I left home,
Mama humming along.
That’s
how I choose to remember Mama,
standing in the kitchen singing with Elvis.
Mama died young only 39,
She never saw me graduate college
Never meet her grandchildren
I have lots of memories of her
some good some bad.
But
the most constant is her standing at the stove
singing with The King.

She is who she is,
a classy sassy  woman.
She drives a tractor with the best of them.
She can use an emasculator,
hog tie a calf, castrate a boor,
Knock some sense into a 500lb steer,
give a rooster the what fore.
She is the Queen of her domain.
And
She wants an extraordinary, mad love,
full of passion anything else is a waste of her time.
She lives wild and works hard.
She doesn’t have time for midcore,
life is full of midcore and she’s had enough.
She wants a life full of flavor, color, texture,
good food, good whiskey, and passion.
But
Her mouth, woo she has the vocabulary,
of a poorly-educated sailor.
and
She can tell you where to go,
then make you look forward to the trip.
She’s easy to underestimate,
you know that harmless girl next door look,
a little nerdy funny is a sarcastic sort of way.
She’s been over looked often, and shakes it off,
until she walks away never to look back.
That’s when you realize what you lost.
And what a loss,
No one will love you like she did.

I don’t want what other girls want.
I don’t need what other girls need.
I need music to dance too,
a roaring fire,
good whiskey and someone to share it with.
I need solitude and sunshine.
I need walks in the rain,
and a comfy sweater.
I need a hand to hold,
deep kisses hugs to get lost in,
I want someone that handles the bold side of me.
I need to write and to read.
I want a love to get lost in.
I need to run wild and free.
But more than anything
I need someone that loves all of me.

Sometimes we get lost,
We wander off our path, or we forget how far we’ve come,
Or we forget that we’re not girls any more.
But women in charge of our own destiny.
Not depended on a man’s opinion,
Of who you are, or who you should be.
Hold fast to this.
Know that you deserve to be loved,
For the strong independent Boss Babe,
That you are.
Never settle for less than you deserve.
Rise up and show your daughters and the Nigh Sayers,
That though your world is small,
It is yours, for the making.
Create a world where Warrior goddess strive and thrive.
The path is yours.
You are strong, beautiful, smart, and a warrior.
You come from a long line of amazing women,
Warrior and goddess in their own right,
Women who survive and thrive,
Always remember you are a warrior goddess,
It is a family tradition.
Remember to always hold fast to father God,
He is always there for you.
Honor and respect mother earth
Don’t forget Karma is a *****,
that takes no prisoners.
You have the wisdom of many at your fingertips
All for the asking, WE will be there.

I have spent my life coming in second.
If you can’t choose me now you never will.
See I’m done feeling like I’m not enough.
I’m done feeling Like it’s my fault.
The time has come to say goodbye.
I’d rather be alone.
Than let you make me cry.

Lets dance turn up the music,
life is giving us lemons,
let’s make Limoncello.
If we go down,
let’s go down singing.
Just dance life’s not over,
just different.
Let’s make some music kick up our heels.
Let your family know they are loved.
And turn those lemons into lemon bars.

I know why you hate me, your jealous.
I look like them.
The one who came first, and the mother.
You hate my red hair,
my alabaster skin and freckles.
I have her coloring.
The one who came first.
You hate my upturned nose,
And pointed chin, I remind you
Of her, the one you could not win over the Mother.
She saw through you,
and all the *** kissing,
and all yes, mamas got you nothing.
You hate me, because I have love and family.
All your backbiting and attempting to minimize me,
Has only made you small.
When I was young, you had power no more.
I’m strong, you can’t hurt me,
I’m a warrior goddess, raised by other warrior goddesses.
I have raised warrior’s,
Women of substance,
and Men of character.
They are wise and witty, out of your reach.
You have been removed from their orbit.
You’ll never bask in the light of our successes.
All because you were jealous of a harmless girl.

I’ve come to believe,
that some women,
are not meant to be, tamed or controlled.
Some women,
Are meant to run wild and free,
to throw off the constraints of men,
and be,
who God, made them to be
totally wild
and
completely free.

I’ve been known to slay dragons, and reduce giants to ash.
But against my feeling for you I’m powerless.
The wild magic, that I’ve kept hidden in my heart has been set free.
She is no longer willing to be contained is a small space.
But
Desires to spread her wings and take flight.
How could I have allowed this to happen?
I’m a warrior!
I fight the good fight.
My wild magic was contained buried deep in the recesses of my heart.
Only to be looked upon as a found memory of what was,
but can never be again.
I found a place for my passion by being a voice for the lost and mistreated.
Championing the needs of the weak and demanding justice for all, convention be ******.
But
Now I stand before you stripped bare of my armor,
venerable and fearful that my wild magic will be too much
or not enough for you.
This wild magic, this raging fire between us is to powerful
for one heart to hold and not be consumed by
But,
With you I’ll share my magic.
To you I’ll give my wild.
When needed I’ll warm you with my fire.
Should you need strength or power I will give you mine.
All I have is yours for the asking.
My thirst for justice has been replaced with a desire to
love and be loved.
All but for a kiss I am yours.

She’s the kind of woman that scares the hell out most men.
Things don’t impress her. Can’t judge her by her cover.

She’ll wear a funky inappropriate, tee shirt with a velvet skirt.
Cowboy boots and a Jean Jacket with an evening dress.

You may even find her in an old flannel shirt leggings and rubies,
In the barn emasculating a bull.

Hell, she’s been known to wear pearls and muck boots.
She’s odd like that.

She likes what she like and is no slave to fashion or
Other’s options of her.

She’s strong accomplished **** and if you don’t believe me,
Well she has some tools in the barn she’ll show you.

It only hurt a little.

One of the things I love about you,
is that you listened for the growl of my spirit.
And heard it,
when it was so muted it couldn’t be heard.
You coaxed my wild out of hiding, and
into the light.
For that alone I should love you.
But that’s not the reason that I do.
There’s no particular reason,
and then there’s everything.
The way you talk to me,
Touch me.  
The kiss to die for.
It’s what I see in your eyes,
in your smile.  
That I can make you chuckle,
at the most inappropriate times.
It is simply all about you.

Nobody makes love any more.
I’m not talking ***.
But the seduction,  the slow dance.
That lingering touch,  a finger across the breast bone.
A kiss on the cheek that whispers of things to come.
Soft lips on your neck ever so lightly.
That make you shiver.

Nobody makes love any more.
Where is that warm hand that softly moves your hair,
To place a kiss on the back of your neck
The kind of kiss that sends tingles down your spine.
Where is hand resting on the small of your back
slipping ever so slowly down to your dearie then back up.
The hand lovingly resting on your stomach as you sleep.


Nobody makes love any more.
Not even in the movies.
There are no lingering looks.
No blankets on the beach.
No stolen kisses in the moonlight.
Gone is the lover that knows you inside and out
up and down, that with one look can turn you inside out.

Nobody makes love any more.
Gone is the lingering embrace.
The one that makes you melt into your lover.
The casual touch of the hair.
Running your hand down their arm to clasp hands.
The touching of finger tips
The total feeling of bliss when two become one.

It’s sad that nobody makes love any more.

The meadow green of your eyes.
Awoke the wild in me
The warm tenor of your voice has embraced my madness
And welcomed my gypsy soul.
Your kiss melted the frozen chamber of my heart.
You have awakened a passion in me I was unaware of,
or unwilling to admit existed.
Where we go from here, I don’ know.
All I know is that I’m forever changed.
With no desire to be the Ice Queen.

She is truly free.
She’s wild with a gypsy soul.
Barefoot toes dug into the dirt
connecting her to the earth.
Arms spread wide
Her face turned to the sun, absorbing its power.
The wind blowing through her hair and
Twisting her skirt around her calves.
Cleansing her of all negativity energy,
freeing her, to be who she chooses to be.
She was wild, windswept, powerful.
She dances between worlds.
Never losing herself to either.
She is truly free.

If you were mine,
I’d make you sweet ginger tea.
I’d draw you a bath with mint and lavender oil.

If you were mine,
I’d fill the house with the smell of fresh baked bread.
I’d make you fresh butter and strawberry jam.

If you were mine,
I’d tuck you in and read to you until you fell asleep.
But your, not mine.

You belong to her so I watch from afar.
And wish.
You were mine.

By nature, I’m tactual.
Hands on touchy.
I love the feel of silk on skin.
The softness of fur.
The coolness of glass.
When I come across objects of desire
I’m compelled to touch.
To run my hands over them.
Experience their texture.
Feel their warmth.
For me touching is understanding.
If you are my object of desire,
I will touch you,
It’s my nature.

I don’t need a hero.
I’m not looking for someone to save me.
I saved myself long ago.
I don’t mind going solo.
I’m not looking for someone to complete me.
I am whole and complete, alone.
But
I’d like someone to join me in crazy adventures.
I want someone to pull me into a hug.
I’d like someone to dance me around the kitchen.
I want someone to see the beauty in my wild.
I’d like to be kissed on the neck when I least expect it.
That’s what I’d like that’s what I want.
What do you want?

Why do you love me?
It’s not for my wild.
You want me tame domesticated.
So
Why do you love me?
It’s not for my crazy.
You want me sane controlled.
So
Why do you love me?
It’s not for my sensuality.
You want me prime, proper.
So
Tell me.
Why do you love me?

I’m a handful.
I don’t take directions.
But I’m seldom lost.
I can’t be controlled.
But who really wants lapdog?
I can be moody.
But I love deeply, madly and fully.
I get lost in my thoughts.
But they’re mostly about you.
I’m a handful.
But I’m also a heartful.

This need is bringing me to my knees.
And I can’t afford to need.
So I’ll walk away.
See you don’t belong to me.
And losing you will end me.

I come from a tribe of amazing redheaded unicorns or raven-haired Banshee’s.
Women so strong that most men run for the doors,
when we walk in.
Not only are we strong but for the most part our looks give men pause.
Some are beautiful some are pixie like.
Others are so exotic looking it makes you wonder how did they get eyes that green and is that a ring of gold around them.
I learned that my beauty is not greater than yours but different.
And we all have beauty, sometimes we just have to look deeper than other times.
This tribe of women raised me to be strong and fearless.
To understand that to serve is not a weakness but a strength.
To have a family is a gift to be treasured.
That knowledge is power. And if knowledge is power then education is imperative.
These Women taught me all I know.
They insured that should my world fall apart I, me, the person within would survive and thrive.
They taught me to only depend on God because people will fail you.
Because when it comes down to, they are only human and humans are weak.
From them I learned to plant a garden.
That growing things working in the dirt it grounds you and keeps you humble.
That there is more to cultivating then sticking a seed in the ground.
You must care for the seed make sure that it’s not chocked out by weeds or eaten by pests.
I learned to cultivate not only food but also family and friends.
I learned that bad habits like weeds choke out the good so don’t allow bad habits to take root
They taught me to sing loud and sing proud just make sure you know the words.
That it is okay to dance but yourself in wild abandonment.
That friends are family you pick yourself so pick wisely.
These women this tribe these Unicorns and Banshee’s strong and beautiful women paved the way for my success.
To them I owe a debt that can only be repaid by passing on to the next generation of Unicorns and Banshees their wisdom and knowledge.

I like to win.
And I always win.
In the boardroom.
In the bedroom.
And when I win you win.
Like I said.
I like to win.

Your dangerous, he said.
Why, she replied.
Because your, wild.
And
You don’t need anyone.
She simply smiled.
She had learned long ago,
To never need a man.

I’m petrified can’t admit this need.
If I need you that means I could lose you.
Losing you would end me.
So, I’ll want you with a Flame that Burns hotter than the sun.
I’ll want you till the stars fall from the sky.
But I'll never need you.

I pride myself on my lack of need.
I’ve always taken care of myself.

Take what I want and give what I can.
Leave them wanting more.

But never losing myself.
Always holding back.

Never allowing myself to need.
I can want but never ever need.

I can handle the flame of want.
But not the fire of need.