Melinda the Intrepid

                                           THE HOLE-IN-THE-WALL-HEART                               Pardner, once, there was a Safe place by day.  Cactus dry, dust hot, coyote lonely, windblown and grit-in-yer-teeth hard to find.                              By starshot night t’was deep, cool, crystal pools and greenness, sprayed with the beauty and hopes of True Love and Dreams kept.                  It was the place my Hole-in-the-Wall-Heart hid from the Outlaws of Love and the Lawmen of Passions.   My hidin...

                  I've been known to write a fair piece of poetry. This one will get your heart racing.....                    It's about my sexy husband...  you know, the one I paid Ten Dollars for off the Internet.... (Oh, you need to read that story if you haven't:  "The Best Ten Dollars..." and also "What Happened to that Hot Guy.....".  Then don't miss the "Wedding and Honeymoon Photos" that rounds up that herd of laughs!)                                      Shootin' Sassy                          ...

                                                                                                      I had a dream for two years before I met my husband, William.  This is the poem I wrote afterwards.  In my night dreams you come softly to me, your handsome, crooked smile,                  Blue denim shirt, an easy laugh, those green eyes That nailed me still where I stood... Reached o...

Another love poem about my husband of 11 years. Long ago, 'neath fragrant pines, those scented giants in moonlight bathed, Sat I and wondered if this life would leave my dreamer's heart unscathed. It ached to love, to give, to sigh sweet breaths of tender yearning. But years passed by.   I loved, I lost, I went on as Time was turning To almost lose Love's perfect Dream, one my heart would surely claim To shake those Carolina Pines, kiss old Moon, to never be the same.                                       But I kept my dream.... Time moved me far from home. No fragrant pines nor misty moons to see. Desert Oasis, flatland farms, heat, strangers, all became life for me. Turning Time had buried my heart -  almost, where Old Dreams should not lie, "Will a ...

My husband's nickname was "Graywolf."  I was the "Dove".    I wrote this poem ten years ago.             From the very first, tender kiss, when you put your hand into my hair and pulled me close to your lips at the airport, my heart has taken its own kind of flight...   A dove soaring, airborne on gossamer threads of love, careening towards joy!             Holding me close, your hungry lips devouring my throat, my mouth, I feel it take flight, fluttering above me - that  poor dove, beating wings against the warm air...  Your breath sends it darting, here, there... trying to find a single sturdy branch upon which to land  - No chance!  Pulled earthward into your arms again...             The sweetness of your enveloping lips, the warmth of your hands, caressing...

                                                                                   Nostrils flared and tail arched high, hooves pounding dust down the prairie canyons, came the black stallion.  He reigned on the precipice above his valley, tossing his great dark head.             Obsidian black with glistening coat, rich mane of midnight hue, the stallion was ruled by his wild heart, free and alone he lived.                    ...