Pride of the Land

I am safe, I am trusting on our great land. In a life I walked a path that was my own. I saw love lost and lost love. I thread the paths of my ancestors, where tears were shed and … Continue reading

Faith Calls

In her own time, in her own mind, she can be finally free.

Closing her eyes and retreating into a world of infinite possibilities becomes her daily escape.

It is here she utters words that refuse to pass her lips and find form. This is where she can become the person she dreams to be. A warrior of her own heart, marching to a beat that sustains her cherished life.

Questions are always present. Why can I not be this person in my waking world? Why does my strength flee in fear when confrontation battles me? Where do I hide?

Opening her eyes she sees the evening light disappear, the blanket of a dark starry night will cover what is left of the day.

‘Tomorrow will come, a day will happen and my dreams will still be there for me.’

‘There will be a time when I need not close my eyes to dream, what I foretell in my mind will be real’… she sighs.

Until then, tomorrow will waken the days, the nights will darken the land and the stars will shine.

My lady’s dreams will exist. 

They are not really afraid and will not abandon her….they will wait, breath and live. Prepared for her destiny, she will be born again.

Loving You Dearest

Lightly running his fingers through her hair he watches her chest raise and fall in a slow methodical manner.

The moment she took the secretarial job in his fathers office he knew he had to have her.

Tentatively running his index finger across her now bare shoulder he reminisces on a history that he has created with her.

It was almost fourteen months ago to the day that he was introduced to Kate, he could initially see his fathers reasoning behind hiring her. She possessed the darkest brown eyes he had ever seen, he felt like he was drowning in liquorice pools when she looked at him, her long raven hair fell softly towards the curve of her back. When he ran his eyes over her exquisitely toned body he had dark thoughts, they forged unintelligible words in his head that would or could not cross his lips.

It was interesting to watch the way they drooled over her, often sitting at his desk he would see their eyes follow Kate across the room, even the other ladies in the office started to dress up more, cover themselves in imitation designer perfumes, and limp around in stiletto heels that made them look like baby elephants on a tight rope.

Tailored well fitted suits were his normal attire for work, they fit his body so as to show his muscular frame bursting from within, slick hair cut on a fortnightly basis and expensive aftershave were his trademarks. He worked as hard on himself as he did in the office, liking things to be clean and organised was always a good thing when you were surrounded by vermin, ones he was forced to be around on a daily basis.

Kate was the first thing he had wanted since Chloe, yes Chloe, she had been very good, he had taken what he needed from her. Missing her was an unfortunate side effect but he had filled his lust with whatever he could have. Paying for services had never been an issue, they ran a business as efficiently as he did and both parties benefited from the transaction.

Keeping his lust for Kate secret in the office was easy, he was far from stupid, paying her as much attention as he did the others gave no signal to his plans.

Sanctioning a staff night at The Manor Pub was always going to work in his favour, his plan was constructed months ago so as he could have his time alone with her. Offering a few hours overtime was just the incentive she needed.

Kate was so lost in her work that she was unaware of his approach from behind, covering her nose and mouth with a chemically soaked rag rendered her unconscious. Moving quickly he lifted her limp figure over his shoulder and swiftly moved towards the service elevator that would take him to the underground car park. It really was terribly unfortunate that vandals had destroyed the surveillance system two nights previous,’ Who would do such a thing?’ he had said to his father.

He bundles her into the back of his five series BMW and covers her slight frame in an old blanket, his movements were perfectly premeditated.

Bringing her home he expertly carries her to his prepared room, using cable ties to bind her to his bed he allowes the chemicals to keep her in a deep slumber. His plan was faultless, it would give him the opportunity to make an appearance at The Manor.

Being forced to smile and pretend he enjoyed their company was painful, but knowing she was waiting for him was truly torturous, his craving for her continued to build but, he was a patient man. Protecting himself was the priority and establishing an alibi took precedence over his desires.

Leaving them when they were sufficiently drunk ensured they would have impaired memories of whom was there, when they left or if they ever actually did.

Kate never regains consciousness, he is a twisted individual, even by his own standards. Enjoying his time on her, he relishes in the cuts that run deep on her now ruined body, running his fingers on the ragged flesh the blade has left behind. He watches as the blood pools on the floor beneath and spreads itself out as if looking for its dieing host.

Laying beside her he listens, her breathing becoming laboured, a gargling rises from somewhere deep within, her chest becomes still as life departs. This is where he truly loves her, but she has left him, just like Chloe.

It has been seven weeks since Kates disappearance, unable to hold her secretarial position open any longer his father has filled it.

 The office door opens and a beautiful slim redhead walks in, the vermin all look and he can see their want for her already. Consuming her with his eyes he thinks….. ‘I will be loving you dearest’

……….

….and then she began to breath, her eyes opened at last to the realisation that there was nothing she could do to change it.
She could either stay in the darkness and be harressed and constantly watched by the demon that wanted to destroy her or, she could gather her strength and pull herself from this hell she was in.
She would never return to that place, the
demon could stay in his hell while she, and what she truly loved continued a life of hope……

Blood Lust

The blood moon lit the gentle flowing waters, the beat of the waves washing the shore and the figure lying on the edge.

She stirred as the icy waters crept further up her legs, the tides resiliently moving forward to claim the beach. Managing to open her eyes she immediately felt the excruciating pain resounding in her head. The metallic taste in her mouth and the flow of blood that ran down the back of her throat forcing her to gag.

In a confused haze she pulls herself up, trying to gauge her surroundings. This only adds to her confusion.

Last thing she remembered was running. It had been late when she had gotten home from work. All she had wanted to do was run, breath deep the night air and clear her head of that insufferable ring tone and that loud intrusive laugh of Grace, the office jester.

With her layered make-up and red lipstick which was constantly reapplied, resulting in the rouge creeping up her teeth. Grace reminded Jen of a hyena eating a pig, with her cackling laugh followed by that ridiculous snort.

She shivered, bringing herself back to her confusion. She tried to clear the fog in her mind…. what had happened?

Running, yes that was it.

She had taken the route that bypassed the harbour, the smell of fish from the auction house holding heavy in the air. The last few trawler men nodding in approval at her as she had ran past. Jen knew she could catch their eye, long blonde hair, blue eyes and a figure she had worked hard for. OK she may have put some money in there too, but who cares… everyone was doing it now.

But then something else caught her attention, the alley that went between The Port Pub and The Trinket shop. That’s where she saw the burning ember of a cigarette being risen to an unseen mouth, the dull glow becoming a fiery orange as someone drew deep on it, but that glow was enough for her to see yellow stained teeth, a sneer attached to them that threatened to engulf her. The coil of smoke was exhaled and lost to the darkness and so too was the figure.

Its eyes were still on her, she was unable to pick them out but she could still feel them, it caused a cold sweat to run from her pores. Quickening her pace she took the disused launching road down to the moonlit beach to escape the feeling.

It was then she felt she could relax, the beach gently lit my the moon. The only sound she could hear was of her feet hitting the sand, crunching heavily under her powerful stride.

She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she was not entirely sure when she had noticed the burning ember or had smelt the sickly sweet nicotine ahead of her.

Stopping dead in her tracks she held her breath… it had to be someone else, there was only one way on and off this stretch and that was behind her. Unnerved, she stumbled backwards and fell heavily, hitting her head upon a rock, darkness comes to her fast, it whispers in her ear to sleep and she listens.

Jen is now where she is, terror grips her body as she realises why she is here, where is that figure? She put herself out here, she feels foolish for her own behaviour. The impact of her situation now hits her, her body finds a renewed strength.

She finds her arms, her finger finds a solid buried deep within the sand and her legs find power.

Jen is up, her legs are moving before her mind has caught up… she hears it…

The crunch of sand behind her, it is there, its feet finding a seamless pattern behind her.

Her heart in her throat, the taste of blood still fragrant in her mouth she pushes her body to extremes, her inner voice screams… ” RUN DAMN IT”.

It is upon her, it can smell her fear and taste the blood in the air, Jen is felled….

He takes her, he knows she is now weak, nothing like beautiful in fear.

The terror is now in her eyes as he pins her down, his mouth forced on her lips and his tongue probes for her fear. He has her taste on him now, his tongue now works it’s way across her cheek, looking for her life blood.. he has found it, biting hard on her pulsating neck and the metallic taste of crimson in his mouth encourages his want for her… life is weak, he thinks as his lips lock solid…

He has taken what he needs, what is left of her remains his daemons take. The body he has left is now devoured and consumed in the slithering mass of vile malevolence. He watches over them as they feast on her. Running his finger across his lips where her crimson blood remains he feels triumphant at her soul within him struggling, sneering in the knowledge that she belongs to him now.
This is only the beginning. We watch, we taste, we shall belong again…

On the beach, in her mind and drawing her last breath, Jen hears Grace laugh… like a hyena eating a pig.

The Book

She is most comfortable in her inglenook. She feels the heat prickle her skin as she watches the oranges and reds dance within the hearth of the fire.

The book, her most treasured possession is draped half open across her lap. The pages she has read are crumpled and creased from where she has thumbed through them. She knows this book well, the characters that she loves dearest and the ones she adores to hate. She has followed their fables and lost herself in their adventures.

Reality ceases to exist in this world as she walks in theirs.

Clutching her book tightly she wishes, no, wants to be where they are, to experience their lives and loves. Especially the one, her greatest admiration in this book.
This honour sits with the eloquent lady that every adventure and love surrounds. This character has shown strength in the greatest of adversities and has shown beliefs when others had none. When trapped in, what only one could believe as inescapable positions, she has shown a courage and a strength that have left all in reverence.

How she adores this lady, for as long as she can remember she has yearned to be in her company. Her mind races with a thousand unanswered questions, her eyes ache to envision this most beautiful and remarkable lady, but this book will have to fill the space of mystery that besieges her.

The popping of damp wood on the fire brings her back to existence, she adjusts herself and shifts position in where she rests.

Realising how tightly she has clutched her book, she releases it gently. She runs her fingers once more over the indents on the paper from where her mother has exquisitely written her thoughts. This is all she has of her mother, her diary.

She skims to the end and rereads the last entry… “Today I will meet you, the signs have started and it wont be long. I feel like I know you already, I have felt you wriggle and have spoken to you daily. Your dreams will be mine and I will spend my lifetime loving you. My heart will only beat for you my angel. I will see you soon.”

Tracing the last words with her finger tips she smiles, her mother was a remarkable lady that loved her before she truly knew her. This book had given her strength her entire life and today she would show her mother that she could be proud of her.

Standing up she places the book on the shelf and walks towards the door. A voice calls… “Darling, I have your bags in the car. Are you ready to go?”. She looks towards her love, his face is full of excitement and realisation of their future.

The pain rushes across her swollen belly once more. She gently places the palm of her hand on her bump and massages until the spasm ceases, smiling she says “Don’t worry my little angel, I am here for you always and our futures will be great. I will see you soon”.

The Hay Field

Maybe its me, maybe its my fault they sit there waiting, watching. Contemplating my every move and observing my every desire.

They watch the pulse on my neck with intent, knowing the quickening of its tempo gives my true feelings away, licking the sweat from my brow as they taste my fears and ingest my terrors. They know me and chuckle with glee at the wild movements in my eyes as I search for protection.

She sits in the hay field, her sanctuary of threaded golden carpet that is surrounded by the dark forest. She watches the faceless figures moving through the thicket, feeding on her fears and cackling at her struggles. How is it they know when she is at her weakest and only then choose to attack with such ferocity.

The cuts they have left are deep on her skin, the scars have become ragged and raised in their attempts to heal. She scratches at them, digging her nails in deep in an attempt to flatten them, ignoring the pain trying with all her will to heal what has been left behind.

Her ears pick up as she hears them move once again, they slither through the dense undergrowth so as to keep her in their sights, their teeth bared dripping with contempt, the stench of loathing towards her permeates the air. They conceal themselves from her but flourish in the glory that she knows they are always there.

Fear crawls across her skin and snakes into her being, but something else has begun to uncoil within her, she feels it stretch out inside her and fight its way to the surface. Unsure at first as to what has begun to happen she strains, and questions whether she heard it, so weak it is but a gentle whisper. Then she realises that indeed there is a voice, a single word revealed so quietly that a breeze could carry it away, but it is there and it says,”enough”….

Tension awakens her muscles as she sits up straight and realises she knows this voice, it is her own, no longer a gentle whisper hidden in her thoughts but that of a fearsome creature. It at last comes to the surface, this new confidence and strength. Facing the dark forest in which she knows they lay, a thunderous eruption comes from deep within her “ENOUGH”.

The silence left in the wake of this single word is deafening. They are unsettled now, a fear sits with them at the unexpected strength that has clambered from deep within her.

Pulling herself upright she now faces the forest, strong in her own standing with a new knowledge. She steps forward closer to the boundaries and breathes deep,” You have been shielded and obscured yourself from within your forest“, she utters “and I have veiled myself in my sanctuary for long enough, I am afraid and will always hold fear, but without fear there is no courage and with my courage I can face you, my demons. I will walk through you, past you and beyond this dark forest. I am the caretaker of my own strength and I am strong”.

Stepping forward she walks powerfully toward the forest and hears her demons retreat in a spineless escape. No longer is she frozen in fear, no longer do they hold a power over her. Pausing at the boundary edge she thinks “Was it them that have held me in my sanctuary for so long, or have I been my own sentinel?”.

Looking past the trees she watches a new sunrise, breaking the dark skies to herald a new day. In the distance she hears voices, long lost to her calling her name. “I am here” she replies “I was lost, but now I return……….”

What I Grow

Within my garden I grow the most magnificent array of flowers, the air is filled with the sweet scent of their perfumes as I brush softly against them. I breath in deep and fill my senses with their splendour and the knowledge that I lovingly tended them from seed.

I watch over each one individually, for each is a dream, each is the beginning of a possibility that started from an idea, a tiny seed that grew strong and fought its way to the surface of the soil. They deserve my attention, they have broken threw the shell of the earth and will grow with my love and devotion.
So as I wander through the grass and gaze lovingly over my creations , I pick my way to the very centre of my garden, my footprints are left where I walk, the path now marked by where I have been. Its here what grows my most treasured creations, it is here you will find the two most rare and brilliant roses. Both look alike but differ greatly, each contains its own beauty that blinds me in its brilliance and no matter what path I take within my garden all paths will lead me to them.
I watch over them and love them with all of me, I see them stand tall in the sunlight as they grow in strength and when the clouds cover their light and their petals droop I wrap myself around them and protect them, I blow away the clouds so they can again bury their roots into the ground and stand tall.
Even when I am not in their presence I feel their spirits grow, I hear the soft breeze brush their petals and know that they are alive with my lifeblood in their veins.
A time will come when my garden will become aged, the soil will support the last few dreams but my roses will forever be strongest within the centre, and then, when my footprints begin to fade and the grass grows over the paths I once had walked, my two beautiful treasures will pull their roots from deep within the ground, find their feet and walk their own paths. They will find their own gardens, they will tend to their dreams and they too will have treasures in the centre of what they grow.
Even though they will no longer see me and my paths become overgrown I will be there, I will be their sun, I will be the dew on their petals at dawn, I will be the wind that blows their clouds away and I will be forever the rainbow above their heads.
When they have their own gardens I will be the spirit that surrounds them, because they are what I grow.

The Storm

Behind these eyes I have hidden my true self, I am unapologetic for it because what I hide is all of me. Few will ever get the chance to see me, because the storm of thoughts that lay behind them bring with it a wind of change.

Who is it that will capture these storms and bring rest to these perpetual troubled seas?

Who will catch the lightning, and grasp it so close that the pulse of heat will radiate through their fingers until, the brilliance of light burns my image into their eyes?

I will always hold a storm because this is part of me, the person that will love me will know this.They will know summer when my heart sings,when my eyes flash upon them and dance as I keep that moment forever, imprinted in the great halls of my memory.

They will see the storms and weather through them by my side,they will be my lighthouse and guide me to them when winds howl and seas rage.

For the person that will anchor me through these times, and stand fast in the violent winds I will allow to see the true me. They will see me dance in the summer breeze as the sun blushes my skin, they will hold my heart and hear my spirit sing as my eyes become alive. It is then and only then that they will know the true me.

They will know the passion I possess for all that I love and all that love me, they will see my strength and know I am a force of raw nature hidden within my own storms.

For I am a storm, I am the summer sun and whether my spirit is broken a thousand times I will fight. I will fight with the ferocity of all of nature so that I will always be me, I will be the seasons of the year, ever-changing and forever true to what and whom I really am.

It will be the lighthouse keeper of my heart that will witness this, it will be then that they know that there is no other like me, they will anchor themselves by my side and we will sail into the future.Confident that whatever storms are carried by the winds of change we will weather, forever together.