The Wet Monsoons

A Reblog…Tribute to the Monsoons…


The Wet Monsoons

Grey skies saturated with love ‘n’ humid with lust, blaming the season for their indiscretions…

Clouds pregnant with moisture they can no longer bear, praying for relief

“But dears, the answer’s blowing in the wind…”

The hot earth looking heavenwards with need ‘n’ desire

Lamenting, “Without rain, there’s no life…just like without wife, there’s no life…”

Its dry crust stretched to the limits ‘n’ cracked open -mutely saying “Come soon!”

A bolt of lightning from the blue ‘n’ crackling laughter splitting the air,” Your wish is my command!”

Thunder roaring the impending momentous occasion ‘n’ proudly reverberating it through all time ‘n’ space

Dark clouds veiling an illusion of the night, for the lovers to unite

The sun hiding behind ‘em to save embarrassment, temporarily putting off its light

Mother Nature shushing all the birds ‘n’ animals into a pin dropping quiet

‘N’ soon enough, the wind…

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Touch Base


Physical demonstrations ‘n’ mental imagery

Pebbles ‘n’ ripples

Circling, breaking ’n’ entering

Slipping into forbidden territory

Surface gestures to what lies beneath

Shallow to deep

Simple to complex

Little to large

Fast to slow

Black irises ‘n’ shades of grey

Silence ‘n’ loud pheromones

‘You’re staring…it’s not considered polite.’

“Guilty as charged

The beauty in your eyes

It’s like staring at the sun

I come undone…

Liberty to touch?”


‘By all means

Just remember

Nice to see, nice to touch, once broken considered sold.’

“Just getting a lil taste of things to come

I’m only rubbing your hand

I don’t bite unless… you want me to.”

‘Well no worries

Don’t bite off more than you can chew…

‘N’ it’s early times yet

Who knows?

Who’ll rub off on whom?

I’m a genie in a bottle

You gotta rub me the right way

Not too hard; not too soft.’

A little later

Hand in hand

Skin to skin

Lips on lips

Embalmed in fruity flavour


A human touch can say more than words can ever express…


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Me in Pictures

Me in Pictures


“I am happy to report that my inner child is still ageless.” – James Broughton

How about yours? Come out and play…

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