Garden of Dreams


Barren, my spirit cries for freedom

Fingers curled into palms, tightly

Shadows cast against pavement

My longing is first to wander alone

Until your honeyed voice called me

Heat rushed to my skin, burning me

Drawing out my ice encased heart

Soothing the storm in my gypsy soul


You draw me back with whispers

Cool wind dances across heated skin

You trace lightly my balled fists

Opening my fury with gentle persuasion

Standing before me, a gentle smile

Swells across my shadow, a blending

Coalesced we come together, softer

We move as one, a dance on starlight


The ethereal beckons us both, closer

Unrecognized now in the moonlit glow

Shadows displaced as we slip together

Remember, beauty under stars

Shredded without thought, nor care

Merged again, harder and more true

In a moonlit garden of dreams



Sweet Woman


Your warmth along my spine

It is new and moves me

Rolls me across cool sheets

Toward promised heat

Strong arms imprison me

Holding me against you

I am precious and needed

Lifted up, I am found

Caged and freed at once

My spirit dances

Winds across moonbeams

Trailing my answer

Hearts beat in staccato rhythm

Each whispered word

A reminder of new passion

Fingertips along hips

Demand a scented blossoming

Happily opening anew

With each breaking dawn

Scattering midnight monsters

To other worlds and history

Your words whispered in the dark

While you thought I slept

Sweet Woman

Bring me to morning’s shore

Remind me of safety



Room For You


Dancing through time to you

With a deep sigh, breath entwines

Heartbeats, as if one slowed

A single beat, your hand over mine

I will make room for you

Whispered in the glow of daybreak

Before you awakened

Feeling your smile against my neck

My words felt not heard

Gifts of spirit in flight drawn back

Twirling across starlight

Colored by joyous song forgotten

Then evoked once more

Through fingertips and heartbeats

I remembered you

From dreams and wishes

Swelling delight, transcending fear

Dominating my night

Guiding my spirt back to you

Fresh awakenings in the dark before dawn

Reminders of my core, my need

Heart home once lost now found

My captured spirit risen

Joyful, all of me lifted up in arms

Strong enough to hold me or release

Knowing I will come back, to you

Without question or fear

My heart has made room for you



Safe Passage


With the ferocity of gale force

You wrapped around me

Lifting me up and tossing me

Against fears and expectations

Dreams and nightmares unexplored

You whispered in my sleeplessness, be still

Rest yourself in these arms, in safety

I tossed, turned and whimpered

Crying out to be released

Still you didn’t let go, holding on

Tangling yourself against me

Like angles and demons

We fought for supremacy

First my body than my heart

The ground we desired as our own

I shivered, longing to give all

Even while I battled your dominance

The scarlet of my tears

Past lives bled out in visions

While you wrap me in cool sheets

Soft whispers of peace and safe passage

No more fear, no more pain

Only here, only now and only this

You are beautiful and mine

When you give yourself

Say it is so, only say it is so




Warriors Rest


My warrior, my King

Ease your burden

My shoulders are narrow

They are strong enough

My arms offer comfort

Reaching for you in need

My breast the cushion

For your weary head

Stretch still beside me

Let my heat infuse you

Warming your lament

Into a song of joy

Warmth wrapped around

Your ice and need

Warrior though you are

Solitary in your fight

My joyful welcoming

Allows you a brief respite

Until your pain is forgotten

For a moment, a night

Or as long as you need



Just Yes


Silken flames follow your breath

Catching me unaware

Unprepared for you

Rising up from my slumber

Skin on skin

Tracing my curves

Dawn brightens the shadows

Desire engulfs us

Cries of please

Arms reaching up and out

Wrists held tightly

Muscles pulled taut

Expectancy raises hopes and trembles

Breath caught, held

Sighs released, breathless

Engulfed by endless waves of Yes

Yes and more

Yes and now

Yes Again

Valentine Logar

30 December 2014

Spring Flash-Tools

Shaking her head she wiped away a fresh tear. Ten years and five children in this speck on the map, not a friend or any relief on the horizon. They say, ‘if you are a hammer everything looks like a nail’, Joey certainly seemed to apply this philosophy but with a twist.

What happened to her dreams? Once upon a time, she had all the tools she needed and a plan then along came Joey with his smooth talk, dreamy eyes and his hammer. Now here she is, lost in the middle of nowhere with nothing, not even Joey.


It is a new season, time for a Spring of Boys and Their Toys. Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the remarkable Red of M3 fame, to join in the fun read the rules at the link provided and get to flashing!

The word this week isTools with a word limit of 100. Tools comes in at 99.

Hashtags: #flashfiction #getpublished with @RedmundPro

Winter Flash – Final Four

Ruby red lips and a Mona Lisa smile, perfect.  Those eyes, dark and mysterious framed by arched brows, perfect.  Hair, windblown or laying gently across bare shoulders, always perfect.

He was fascinated with perfection, obsessed with the woman of his dreams.  His fantasy just beyond his grasp.  Disappointment a constant, his failure riding him like a harbinger of disaster each time he reached out to grasp his obsession and she slipped through fingers moist with anticipation.

He knew what to do, what was missing.  He knew and was prepared to make any sacrifice.

He laid out his tools on the counter, smiling to himself as he checked each with care; nothing was too good.  He stared at the picture taped to the mirror as he reached down, with one hand grabbed his pene and testes with the other made one cut severing it all.

Now, now he would be perfect.


“Where are you?”

“Right down the road, be there in minutes.”

July sat down to wait, ‘minutes, huh, been three days’.

Soon she heard the front door slam, “Honey, I’m home”.

She swung hard, cracked his head wide open that would teach him the difference between minutes and days.


She was without tits or ass.  She had a gap between her teeth.  Her eyes crossed and her hair that terrible color.

Why did they all flock to her like crazed flies on road kill?  Suzann fumed from her lonely barstool as Trudy flung her head back, laughing.


She turned the can facing toward her, label out.  She checks the shelves and begins turning the cans labels facing out.

“Shoppers the store will close in five minutes.”

She stared into her empty cart; her compulsive behavior had stopped her at the soup aisle. She sits down and quietly weeps.


It is the last of winter, actually I am very late getting these in but I thought I would share them with you anyway.  Winter of Disturbing Flashes. Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the remarkable Red of M3 fame, to join in the fun read the rules at the link provided and get to flashing!

These were the final words and their count:

Obsessed with a word limit of 150, coming in dead on the nose at 159.

Cracked with a word limit of 50, coming in dead on the nose at 50.

Crazed with a word limit of 50, coming in dead on the nose at 50.

Compulsive with a word limit of 50, coming in dead on the nose at 49.

Hashtags: #flashfiction #getpublished with @RedmundPro

Winter Flash-Demented

Jojo and Jimie visited every Sunday for Tea.  Miss Vivienne prepared for their visit with anticipation and precision.  Hair, make-up, dress all just so.  The Tea and finger sandwiches made just the way they liked them.

Vivienne was a stickler for the tradition of Sunday Tea with her sons.

“Miss Vivienne, it’s time for your bath now,” Carol said as she began pulling the chair away from the table.

“Oh, hello dear you just missed my boys they would have loved to see you.”

Carol removed Miss Vivienne’s hearing aids and gently placed her in the tub with the help of Betsy.

“What is wrong with her, I didn’t see any visitors.”

Carol glanced up at the new girl and smiled ruefully.  “Miss Vivienne has been with us a long time.  She is demented as can be, has been ever since she killed her husband and sons fifty years ago.”


It is a new season, time for a Winter of Disturbing Flashes. Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the remarkable Red of M3 fame, to join in the fun read the rules at the link provided and get to flashing!

The word this week isDemented with a word limit of 150. Demented comes in at 150.

Hashtags: #flashfiction #getpublished with @RedmundPro

Winter Flash-Mental

“Say my name.”

George stared at her dumbfounded by the demand.  Say her name; he thought that was what he had been doing all night.

“Say my name, dammit.”


She stared from across the table, steam rising from the coffee mug mingling with smoke from her cigarette.  After a long minute without a single word, she stabbed her half-smoked cigarette out in the overflowing crystal ashtray, her hand shaking.  Rising from the table, she dumped her coffee into the filthy sink and made her way down the narrow hall leaving George staring after her, twenty minutes later she returned dressed.

She stood before him a lost sadness in her eyes, before picking up the heavy ashtray and with precision hitting him squarely across the bridge of the nose.  She watched as his nose flattened and his eyes swelled shut.

“Are you mental?”

“No, but my name is Rose.”


It is a new season, time for a Winter of Disturbing Flashes. Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the remarkable Red of M3 fame, to join in the fun read the rules at the link provided and get to flashing!

The word this week is Mental with a word limit of 150. Mental comes in at 149.

Hashtags: #flashfiction #getpublished with @RedmundPro

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