Room 9 – edited

I wasn’t sure that part 3 of my Hotel series “Room 9” was fully formed when I posted it. I left it up for a while  so I could think about what it was that wasn’t working for me. I’ve updated it now, and I also have the bones of the next chapter in my head. I hope to get that posted once I’ve got some real life stuff dealt with this week. Anyway, take another look and let me know what you think.

Read Part 1 – Room 210

Read part 2 – I’m Not A Weirdo

Read part 3 – Room 9


Nothing Gold Can Stay – Robert Frost

Natures first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold. 

Her early leaf’s a flower; 

But only so an hour. 

Then leaf subsides to leaf, 

So Eden sank to grief, 

So dawn goes down to day 

Nothing gold can stay.

This is my favourite piece of poetry. I know it by heart, and I am reminded of it in many different situations. Quiet walks, lonely nights and also the best of times. 

My dreams are causing mixed emotions this week which is why I think this poem came to mind. 

The innocent bystanders look on as I want to walk down the path but there’s no right of way. It’s like they knew everything but never told there was another route. I’m bathed in gold in the dawn, but day brings me back to reality and nature’s cycle starts again. It’s a cycle I don’t want to break, for those few hours of gold are precious, even if I can’t follow the path I wanted.

That’s my random rambling for today. Maybe it’s too much/not enough coffee? 

The most intimate of friends


“Grey Lines with Black Blue & Yellow” Georgia O’Keeffe 1923

It was a relaxed arrangement. For weeks before we chatted at length on-line and then on the phone, and we both wanted to explore further without pressure of partners being involved, or it just being a drunken fumble as previous experiences had been. We became friends with a common interest.

Continue reading

Morning rush

I wake slowly to the warm rumble against my skin

Vibrating silicone excites surgical steel and velvet nipples

Travelling south, tantalising, soft curves tremble

Gently parting, nudging towards sweet release

Pinned down whilst bursting free

Rush to wash, dress, make a dash

Flushed red cheeks in the cold morning air sting, giving away my wakeup call.

© All rights reserved. CLR at 2016