Poetry

This slave wishes to share some of her poetry.
It's nothing special just little pieces of her feelings and inspirations that found their way to random bits of paper..


The artist
He decorates His pale canvas with sure, swift strokes.
A Master of His trade, this artist.
Focused completely and entirely self disciplined,
His work is breathtaking.
Stripes of color in different patterns, some light, some dark.
Others lined neatly in a row, the rest crossed and intertwined.
They leave such an interesting impression.
Reds, bright crimson blood, burning like fire.
Blues, of the deepest, darkest ocean.
Purple, like a bruise, or a sweet ripe plum.
Yellow, wild dandelions in fields of green.
Sometimes if the dark mood strikes,
the almost black of a stormy night sky.
All of these He flows together seamlessly,
part practiced perfection, part gift.
He can create something beautiful, with just about anything.
No brushes or pencils touch His work,
He prefers to choose His own tools.
Few ever get to see this art, they just wouldn't understand.
For its still too far outside the norm.
Still He creates because it pleases Him, not for any type of recognition.
Contemplating His next design with a smile,
Master wields His implement with skill.
His swings land flawlessly to the cries of His slave,
and the appearing marks are exact.
A soothing hand to steady, on her trembling side.
The touch of His love tender and rough.
she leans into Him happily, breathing quickened, flushed.
And with a devious grin He draws back thinking,
"It was a dark and stormy night...".

Blond chicken

Yes, blond chicken.
W/we had chicken and veggie soup for dinner tonight, and Master showed slave how to pluck and clean a chicken. All thanks to the chicken that 'flew' over the neighbors chain link fence into the waiting jaws of his dog *laugh* very blond chicken, and yes it really was yellow.

Master was given the still warm bird by the neighbor who had no idea what to do with it, so He checked to make sure its insides were intact just like W/we had to do with the bunny last year.
Then He showed slave what to do, it was lots of fun and the bird was only bruised a little.
It tasted good though was a little tougher than usual because it was a 'yard bird' instead of one kept tender in a tiny cage like the ones you get from the store.

The whole thing was great, slave loves that kinda stuff! Thank You Master.