This Small Slip

You are smooth warm whisky

I, the wine one sips in the moonlight.

Your lips chip away at mine,

Mine possess yours

my tongue dancing over the coals.

You are jeans and cold morning milkings.

I am comfort and words have so much meaning.

I caress your face, pull you closer

please don’t forget.

Time is so fleeting for this dance.

I have wondered, I have dreamed

but I know that nothing can come to pass,

in this dangerous fantasy of mine.

Fingers touch for one last good bye,

do not see the tears that I cry.

Forgive me this small slip

I never meant to end up here.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen
August 4/17

Desolate and Beautiful

I went for a walk and saw beauty in the bleak desolation of an empty beach and pier that only the day before teemed with life. And though the wind nearly blew me over I found myself drawn to the roaring waves and wind sculpted sand. I needed to take these pictures.

I always wanted to paint but lack the talent to take what I see in my mind and bring it to life on paper. Now I have the ability to take the pictures that draw me in and edit via my phone. This is just the start.