Ther Vine Keeper

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Saturday, April 30, 2011

River Service . . .

River Service

Water rushing down the River
seeking it’s course
as are we
very much like the River
we rush along
for all the things we long for
yet, many time
never appreciating the course we travel

yes, the River is wetted
and embedded
in it’s own consciousness
emoting the noise
of it’s own being-ness
yet with more
or with less
it shall continue
upon it’s predestined journey

and as i stand and listen
to the whispers
to the glistening rivulets
churning and turning
across the rocks upon it’s bed
in my head
i hear a message
directly from my soul
as it speaks to the soul
of the River

it tells of the River’s purpose
and all the un told stories
the stories it has collected
over the years

it ells of the days of glory
and how it too tamed a wilderness

it tells of all the passersbys
and the Hikers
and the Bikers
and those who would sit in solace
upon it’s banks
and the reverent thankfulness
for all those who shared their tears
and their glee and laughter
throughout the years

yes, the River has many secrets
it holds silently in it’s Soul
from the wanderers
the seekers
and all those who have visited upon her presence
imparting their presents
of life

i now look at this River
a giver of life
and with it’s abundance
it’s rife
it has fed many
as it still does
in the spirit
the mind
the body

and i now understand this River
and it’s reclusive purpose
and that is but to be
as should we
of service to life
and flow

River service

29 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

come steal my heart . . .

come steal my heart  . . .

come steal my heart my beloved one
be as the thief who creepeth in the twilight
ever vigilant seeking the cherishable prize
that ushers forth riches untold
let the graces of our aspirations
and dreams
become a presence of One

come steal my heart my beloved
take charge of my heart felt wanderings
let there be no repass of my guilt
for what you take charge of here
i bear no ownership

come steal my heart my beloved one
my longing calls for one just like you
be mindful of your caring
let it be focused upon me alone

should you wander to another garden
where the fruit appears that much sweeter
know that i bear no angst against thee
for you have tasted of my sweetest
and i a grateful to have fed your dreams

come steal my heart my dear and beloved one
come steal my heart
and let us dance in the realm
of expectations of our greater self
let us uninhibitedly display our joy
in the smile upon our face
the smiles that are tethered to our Light Heart
where shadows have no name

come steal my heart my beloved one
and as we comingle in our bliss
let us kiss
and let the ether of our union
be the spirit that spawns life
and the universe shall sing
of the ecstasy of our love
in it’s highest form of celebration

come steal my heart beloved one
and let the angels lose their guard
for my heart in your hand requires no chaperone
and all the eyes of heaven shall be filled
with the beauty of their tears of allure
as they flow to feed those
who know not of thy passions

come steal my heart my beloved one
and we shall dine at the table
eternity has set before us
entwined in all the blessings of imaginings
of all the God-ness of promise
as one

come steal my heart . . .

© 30 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Announcement : World Healing Day Special

Hey Everybody
Tomorrow is “World Healing Day”
join us Tomorrow Morning for a very Special Episode
as we interview Founder Bill Douglas on Inner Child Radio

Interview Time :

9:00 until 10:00 AM Eastern
8:00 until   9:00 AM Central
7:00 until   8:00 AM Mountain
6:00 until   7:00 AM Pacific

Q & A Time immediately following

Afterward we will be opening the Telephone lines for further conversations so that you can share your Thought, Comments and Contributions to this Special Global Event.

The Call in number is : 714.816.4751
or join us in the Chat Room as we Commune in Love . . .

Watch YouTube Video

World Healing Web Site

Thursday, April 28, 2011

rend my consciousness

rend my consciousness

i rend my consciousness
seeking answers to questions
i can not even formulate
so i cling to a single word
that has celebrated man’s quest
since the dawn of time
why ?

the juxtapositions we occupy
built upon the foundations of uncertainties
of understanding and belief
offers no respite
from our self damnations

we submit our souls to the winds
the winds  laden with the dust
that fills the eye
that champions the wavering
of our embraced creations of knowledge
for we are blinded
and have lost our way

and i ask
what exactly does man really know
what truth do we embody
will last forever
in the ever lasting
and just how long is everlasting any way
will i have to sit in this silence
where the voice
i long to hear speak audibly
with instruction
of which way i should walk

or should i just sit and wait
my that is a long time
and again i ask
why ?

there is a longing in my soul
and it seems that i was born with it
and it has grown ever so restless
in these days and times
and every time i am reminded of my disorientation
as i take my fixations back from the world

and the deafening stillness
of that place where nothing moves
or soothes
nor fills the deep grooves
life has cut into my heart
is saddening
and somewhat maddening

for it is answers i seek
of which there is no doctrine
no man made opinionated interpretive salve
that can satisfy this ache i have
to but touch that which is Holy
and perhaps Kiss the Face
of my maker
and whisper in His ear
a secret i have held within
since the days of  the Jin
has been vanquished from alternative realities

and this desire
that has possessed me in a raging longing
to right the wronging
of these jaded perspectives
allowed to exist
will not desist
until Bliss unpacks her bags and moves in
and pays the mortgage for this humble abode
called me
and provides the deed indeed
that the seeds of my thoughts,
my dreams
and my aspirations
for goodness
can be planted in the garden out back
with no thought
nor concerns
nor worries
of being possessed
or repossessed again
by illusion

and i will rest my mind upon this hope
and each day as we cast them to the winds
that they may be fulfilled
we will cope
with the nonsense
that which is allowed by the collective
of energy not employed

and though annoyed
with the whole
i do know it is me
the ‘i’ in me
that must do my part
and examine the finite nuances
of my own contributions
as i . . .

rend my consciousness

© 27 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

and i am hers . . .

and i am hers

Love is my constant companion
and my sanctity
and i am hers as well
without me she has no voice
she is but a mute in a world of noise

if i feed Her not
surely she will starve
and in this malnourished state
she will dry up
and become the chaff of the desert winds
in this barren landscape
that used to vibrantly live
and feed the substance
of all hearts

if i give her not of my waters of spirit
she will wither back to the nothingness
that which was before things manifest
and lest i consent to her well being
she will never know the joy
of touching another soul
ever again

for Love is my slave
as she is yours
to command
to hire out
at no cost
to all you encounter

i can dress her as i wish
as a smile
a caring gesture
and empathetic look
or even a thought

i adorn her with light
and she multiplies
that which i give to her
for she is a good steward
of my soul

i feed her the fruits
of my noble intent for goodness
borne of the seeds
i have planted
all my life
and i know thus
that she has fulfilled her duty
for it was love
that nourished my garden
when i was absent
in my unconsciousness
or while i slept

it is i who sustains her
as do you
it is the “i’ in us all
that gives Love life
and she is ever grateful
as am i
and i bow in reverence
with the temperance of eternity
for i yearn not
love is my constant companion
and my sanctity
and i am hers

© 27 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011



the silent and now prone bodies are lamenting
opportunities passed upon
while the souls of the free
are dancing
upon their graves
for they are liberated

though many are scheduled to return once again
to learn the lessons embraced by the infinite
they cherish with glee the vacation
from the burden
the yoke
of physicality
and this reality

the universe takes a breath
as the transdimensional winds comes about
 to sweep them along
to their place in line
the line of destiny
where all things are fulfilled
and there it will be divulged
their next station in this existence

and the persistence
of their pending fate
worries them not
for worry and doubts now lies and rots
with the bodies they left behind
and they know with all due certainty
that again they are free
for that is the language all souls speak

they know all too well
that their soul seeds
shall again germinate
in the womb of life
and the dust of the earth
shall give unto them a new burden
to be yoked upon their aspirations to ascend
as they prepare to traverse this precarious landscape
of delusional being-ness

and once again
as the challenges of the absence of divine memory
hones the acuity of their understanding
of universal mind
they will seek
some will find
but all will travel the path

and with an anticipation seeded in truth
these souls speak of the journey
where they like the Salmon of the Rivers
shall spawn again
and again
and again
giving unto life

and with reverent smiles of a certain knowing
they dance
and they dance
and they dance
for they know of the ultimate of all truths
that life is truly everlasting
and the typecasting of  the lies
still lies now in a somber silence
with the bodies they left behind
the bodies that lie prone
and lament for another eternity
feeding the future
of those still yet to come


© 26 April, 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

a present to all

a present to all

she had a light in her eyes
her countenance radiated effervescently
she glowed
and her light was infectious
to all whose presence she graced

she had a secret
that she did not bother to keep
she gave of her goodness
to those who smiled
and those who weeped
whether it was sadness or joy

she was the buoy
in many a Souls Ocean of despair
she was the air that gave life
in the midst of strife

her secret,
she knew something
she did not take concern nor worry
for the things of the world
nor the conditions
for she knew
that all Souls would be the better for it
and she was aptly equipped
with reason
and understanding
that all the demanding
for resolution in this dimension
was for naught
for it was the illusion
upon which we are trained
to seek our higher purpose
our higher self

and with this knowledge she embodied
she imparted it to everybody
without reservation
and to all’s elation
they danced in her aura
for she was a flower of presence
a present to all

© 27 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

we had fears . . .

we had fears

there are fears that we dare not admit
hidden in the womb of our denials
the pouring forth our fears and tears
lightly dressed as smiles

insecurities and our unassuredness
and our foiled construction of esteem
yet every day we awaken to a life
where we embrace such empty dreams

be it loneliness or our indifference
from the myriad of things that touch us
we all carry forth that innate feeling inside
there is something that must be done, we must

sometimes in spite of our better selves
we turn off that light of hope within
and cling to our familiarities in dismal despair
and deludedly we treat them as friends

when the Captain of the Ship cries “Woe is ME”
what possibly can my expectations surmise
that here i am again upon the Landscapes of Life
where there is an absence of the Sun that should arise

but wait, why should i stay here i ask
in a place where the dark clouds constantly loom
i am the creator is what “Source” tells me
of my life and of my illusional doom

so in the final analysis of this “NOW”
i am changing, transmuting that which i see
and if i could but touch the world with this virus
we can effectuate the divine within Me and Thee

collectively as we strive forward
by changing our “HERE” Right “NOW” my friend
our fears become the musings of the illusory past
that we once thought lived within

we had fears . . .

(c) 9 December 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.

The Garden Of Mind

The Garden Of Mind

What type of Food do you feed your mind? What type of diet do you allow your mind to indulge?

Every day we are confronted, inundated and bombarded with things, items, probabilities and
circumstances to ponder . . . to think about. This is not a bad thing, for that is the purpose of
Mind. But, have you ever stop to examine the Nature or the Manner in which you think? Of
course we do need very desperately to think. As a matter of fact, it is one of the most difficult
of Life’s tasks to not do so, to quiet One’s Mind! But, more importantly, it is not how much we
think, for we are well equipped to do so. The Mind is an AMAZING piece of equipment!
What i wish to examine and bring to your attention via this article, is not the volume of
thought, though that does have an impact on the quality of our life, But today i wish to focus in
a finite sense the “Demeanor and Attitudes” of our thoughts. Thoughts are much more than
simple information. Thoughts are the initiators of Action . . . or lack thereof. Our thoughts are
the first Seeds of Creation in our lives. Now most of you who know me, you know by now that
i love the Garden analogies . . . ha ha ha.
If we are to look at our life as a Garden, our thoughts would be the Seeds. The Soil would be
our Lives. As a Gardener, we plant the seeds of the things we wish to grow such as Fruits and
Vegetables. There are very few Gardeners i have encountered in my life time that make it a
point of growing weeds. Weeds steal our “Soils” energy needed to grow a good crop and
thereby yielding a bountiful and fruitful harvest for our efforts expended. Like wise, there are
many Gardeners who have fences around their Gardens to keep Pests at bay, for again certain
Pests are ravenous in a well kept Garden. After all, they are looking for “Food” also! . . . And
then there are the variety of Bugs and Blight and all kinds of Raiders that wish to get at your
inner Garden either to negate your efforts or just have a free meal! Again, take time to apply
this analogy to your thoughts. There is always some external stimuli that wishes to get in and
take root in your “Perfect” Garden. Yes, i did say “Perfect”! Why you may ask ? . . . Because
“Potentially and Ultimately” we are! We are in control of what we allow in, the thoughts we
chose to indulge in and how we manifest these thoughts.
Over the years there has been many Axioms and Cute little sayings about thinking positive and
such. There are people every day writing books, Stories, Articles and giving speeches about
thinking positive and the value of Positive Thought” But let me submit to you this small point
of consideration . . . It matters not how Fair and Beautiful your Garden IS . . . if you allow the
invasion of one Negative thought . Just like the Weed, Blight, Pest, etc. . . . they will see to it
that your “Fair and Beautiful Garden” is one that “USED” to “BE” . . . just like the so many
others “Negative Thought” has Ravaged. The safest thing one can do is “THINK LOVE”
Here are some words from Paul the Apostle. I call this my “8 Point Check List”
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things
are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of
good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
© 2008 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Sailing My Ship

Sailing My Ship

i stood on the Beaches of my Existence
and i looked out upon the Seas of Life.
My heart desired and longed
that i too one day may go forth.
So . . .
my Father taught me how to build a Ship.

i put my Ship upon the waters
and i drifted here and there.
i was aimlessly tossed to and fro,
so i sought through the prayer of intent
that i may come to learn to direct my course.
So . . .
my Father taught me how to build a Rudder.

i was bemused and pleased.
As time went on and on . . .
the Sea was the Sea,
but time continually went on.
Some days went peaceably slow,
and some treacherously Fast and Stormy.
The currents of life dictated my days instead of me.
i was being troubled from within
for my lack of control,

and . . .

my Father intuitively seeing this
gave me the visions of Wings of a Gull.

He taught me to capture the Breath of Life
and build a Sail. Thus doing so,
i found that my Sailing and Navigating
of the Seas of my life
was completely within my control.

Days went on,
which turned to Months
and to Years of many.
i, over this time grew weary.
Though i have experienced many things,
i had no purpose,
other than the discovery of new things.
This is what i dedicated my life to.
i collected these discoveries as my treasures.
i do not complain . . .
However . . .
i soon tired of the seemingly redundancy.
i wanted my purpose to have more . . .
more substantive meaning.
i wanted to leave a Legacy.
i wanted to have an Ultimate Destination
where in my weariness of Sailing
the Seas of my Life,
i could find Meaning, Solace and Rest.

Being very troubled within,
again my Father came to me . . .
and said . . .

My Son . . .
you have always had purpose . . .
that is but to be My Child.

You have always had a Destination . . .
through all your times of trouble . . .
ME !
I AM your Destination !

the Comfort you now seek,
the Meaning, the Solace and the Rest . . .
is in MY Hands . . .
the same Hands that has
Guided you . . .
Held you . . .

through all of your Life’s Aspirations . . .
Trials and Tribulations ;
through your Joys and Sorrows ;
through all of your Discoveries . . .
and Disappointments
you encountered on the Seas of Life

Come my Son . . .
Come and sit with me
Sit on My Beach

and . . .

let us watch the Young and Restless
build their Ships .

© 5 April 2009 : William S. Peters, Sr.


~ inner child ~

© 2008 : William S. Peters, Sr.

The Sacrifice . . .

The Sacrifice

Easter, what a wonderful time for me to write about this message. Do not get me wrong, i am not here purporting any one to accept any Religious Doctrine of Belief. I am here simply to give an analogy based upon what i perceive as very relevant to the times and our lives. You may say if you wish that the timing is somewhat suspect, but it is truly my inspiration that has lead me to this path this day.

When we think upon the significance of this time of year, we all pretty much know the Story. Jesus was Punished, Crucified, and after much Pain he arose on the Third day after his Death. There is another very significant statement that Jesus made earl in His Ministry . . . . “I lay down My life that I may pick it up again!”  This is the subject of this analogy.

Many times in our own lives we find ourselves in a place of suffering. It may be for a variety of reasons that we feel this way. It may be the circumstances of our lives. Or it may be the lack of  desired progress, whether it be Spiritually, Intellectually or Physically rooted matters not, for all enduring troubles will eventually transmute into our Spirit. This is the time when life becomes lesser than our perceptions of it. It becomes a yoke of burden that continually weighs our Spirits down. Sometimes we find ourselves becoming very depressed and full of Woe and Despair.  For myself as well as most of us,, this is when we recognize in not so subtle ways that change is necessary . . . indeed. Have you ever experienced this feeling? Many times the change must be so dramatic to escape the syndrome of Self Repugnation. (New word) But, again we feel that Life is closing in. This is when i know that the best thing we can do is let go. Let go of our Judgments, Analyses, Condemnations and all other Self Paralyzing and Demeaning attitudes we have seemed to collect and cherish. I know some of us do get a Joy out of complaining no matter how short lived and ultimately damaging. But when it is all said and done, change is still required.

What a wonderful quality we have in our Mind. That at any given time we can change it. We can change our Focus. We can change our Priorities. We can even change our Allegiances and Loyalties. I say this because most times the inhibiting factor of change is Guilt. We many times in our goodness of spirit and heart align ourselves with things and life styles that are not in our best interests, nor mean us any good, yet we “STICK”! I am proud of you ! (ha) But i do believe that a man with no Wisdom, Knowledge or Insight to Truth can lend it not. So i say this, do not fear change, however we must keep our Eyes Open, and our Notepad and Pen ready that we may record our efforts and experiences through the process of change that we may lend it to others, if not ourselves for another time of similar circumstances. You see, every time we face insurmountable odds, we have the gift to be able to “Lay down our life that we may pick it up again”! In the remaking of our “New Life” we offer our Old Life, it’s values and perspectives as “The Sacrifice” !

Many who were not there to assist you in your plight, or who denied you when they had the chance to “Stand Up” and be “Counted” will be there in the Abundance and Resurrection to Life!

Blessed Be


(c) 9 April 2009 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Friday, April 22, 2011

let us dance . . .

let us dance

it’s breakfast time
it’s feeding time
the Birds are wake
and singing rhymes

awake my child
this grateful morn
and leave behind
what once was scorn

for the Sun of life
shall come about
embrace the promise
cast out all doubt

let music play
expand thy sum
let joy prevail
i beg you come

let love walk first
in all you do
and you will be
the greater you

for all is yours
believe you must
magic unfolds
if we but trust

so come my child
and be enhanced
the world is yours
so let us dance

© 22 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

all things . . .

all things

we meander through life
participating in moments
that are recorded
in the chasm of Mind Infinite

there are times when the bridge
to this wonder of existence
provides a free pass
that we come to the alter of gratitude
for we still are here

as we vacillate
betwixt the various heavens of awareness
we perhaps can touch the grande majestic self
found in each of us
found in all things
if we but look
and dream

for in the etheric composition
of all things manifest
who can draw the line
that determines reality

in the grande Jesters Game
we humble our divinity
to embrace the concept of time
and space
yet in the mind
of that which knows not of limit
we are here
we are everywhere
we are all things
and there
for we are
all things

© 22 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

budding . . .

budding . . .

i stand here
firmly implanted
woven into the Fabric of Spring
i listen to the Buds
as they come forth
and i hear their cry
the longing music of love
as they yearn to blossom
and impart their gift of fragrance upon the world
as do i

there is a definitive certainty
that all life will be rewarded
by the giving of their essence
and the time soon come
when all those with wings
shall feed upon the bounty
the sweetness
in completeness
of the journey

as we watch and witness
the balance
the fitness
and prefectness of creation
the perfectness
and much to my elation
i know the fruit will come
and we shall eat
we shall dine
at the table
where the wine of the Gods
are set before us
for us
yes for our joyful indulgences
in the grandeur of life
as we begin to bud

© 21 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

of knowing . . .

of knowing

he turned the Earth upside down
that he may peer under the skirt of reality
he  desired to look directly into the womb of the Mother
that he could discover
what was being birthed
upon this Earth

he knew that she was in travail
as she regurgitated
all the ill spoils of her Children
they deposited in her bowels in their errant
indifferent musings
of advancement
and progress
as they regressed
into the realm of darkness

and Mother was still smiling
in spite of her
for she knew Her treasure
was still yet undiscovered
in this time
this age

and as the Sages all foretold
it is not the Bold
who shall conquer their self
but those who are the meek
and have the knowingness to seek
the truth of self
in silence
by listening
and paying attention
without contention
to Nature’s whispering voices

for the choices of man
can not stand
like the House of cards
built upon the foundations of sand
it shall fall
and waver
with the winds
that blow without cease
disturbing the peace
of their sleep

and in the bosom of Mother
i can hear her weep for us
betwixt her smiles of understanding
and tolerance
for she has been here many times before
imploring us but to observe
the servings of time
be offered unto us
hoping that we will trust
in eternity’s absoluteness
and pass beyond this finite test
and start glowing
and start flowing
with the River
to the Ocean
of knowing

© 21 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

my God . . .

My God

it is 6:00 in the morning
i go outside
to embrace the wonder of God manifest
this day

i look to the mountains
and the Snow Capped Peaks are peeking
above the low lying Land Cloud
that obscures it’s base in mystery

the almost Full Moon above
enhances the beauty of this picturesque setting
with it’s eerie Silvery Light
reflecting upon  all things
i sight
and my consciousness has been stolen
in this moment
that has captured me
and is holding me here
as i leer in awe
and i say out loud
My God
for the shroud i usually wear
upon my awareness
has been lifted
as i am shifted
beyond this place

and in the face of it all
my soul called out
and shouts again
My God
for the God in me
is realized
that beyond all the deceit
and other stuff
we are connected
you and i

yes we are connected
creation is connected
all things are connected
to source
and of course
as my heart began
it’s butterfly like flutter
as i stutter once more
My God

i am grateful

© 21 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

a poet . . .

a poet

he reached into his back right Jeans Pocket
and extracted the 2 sheets of unlined blank paper
he had neatly folded 3 times over
to make 8 almost perfect sections

he fidgeted and rifled through the remaining pockets
that of his pants
his shirt
and his jacket
for creation
and things
were speaking to him
yes, he was a poet

he never went anywhere unprepared
for what he dedicated his life to
he cared more for than life itself
his only aspirations were to listen
as the muses imparted the whisperings of existence
and beingness to him
yes he was prepared alright
yet at this very moment
he was scared he would miss the message
the scribe
that life presented for him to imbibe

you see he knew that all things spoke
a language in stillness
so he walked in that realm
lived in that realm
dreamed in that realm
breathed in that realm
where all was quiet within him
for he was attentively waiting
anticipating at all time
the birth of a new rhyme
or verse
or lyric
that he could capture
and give to others
that they could hear it
read it
feel it
be it
as he scribed it
on his neatly folded paper
he carried in his pocket

here outside of himself
and inside as well
he felt the overwhelming of his senses
there were no fences that could contain inspiration
and to his poetic elation

the sensations he experienced
were a sweet fruit of the soul
his soul
and that with whom he shared
so he dared not
no, dared not
go any where
without his paper and pen
for the fear of the sin he would commit
if life spoke to him
and he did not capture it
take it and give it
for his life he did commit
to being who he was sent here to be
you see
he was . . .
a poet

© 19 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Monday, April 18, 2011

a friend called self

a friend called self

here i sit
in the pre dawn morn
awaiting the instructions of the Gods
my Soul open
my consciousness pensively listening
for the whispers

where are my muses
where are the Saints
what would you have me to say
this day
upon the way
you would have me walk

i go to the center
the center of me
where the voices congregate
and i wait
in the looming silence

there is a feeling of quiet safety here
a place where fear is not allowed
and all is clear
and the shrouds that litter thought in the light
reside not
for here i have forgotten who i am
and how i define my self
when i am seen

i am  keenly aware of this body
i carry
or that carries me
during this brief journey here
year after year
through my smiles
my laughter
my anguish
my tears

and though i have yet to be clear
as to what the purpose is
and what the final outcome is to be
i do know that the sum of me
is so much more
for in the core of me
there is something quite magnificent
i have seen it in you too
that shining light
that emanates on through
the Human of your being
and with that i am enlivened
and it is confirmed
that none of us are alone
so be it known

so here i sit
submitted to listening
for voices
and thus they have spoken
this pre dawn morn
and adorned life once again
with insightful amend
that within each of us
there is a friend
that tends to heaven within
a friend called self

© 18 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

of liquid love . . .

of liquid love

yes, they were but thoughts
and yet somehow they seemed so real
and i could actually feel them
feel her
feel her skin as i allowed my fingers
to drift languidly across the vast expanse of her body
just as she danced in the vast expanse of my living dream

yes, i refuse to let go
or wake up
‘cause this place i am in at this moment
has me erectly paying attention
to the goodness life affords
one who loves another this deeply

i deliberately close my eyes to all external sensations
and i can smell her body moisture
that which wafts through the air from the valley of her breasts
as the swelling nodes of her twin mounds of excitement
rise to greet my teasing tongue
as it explores it’s command of her senses
and arousals

and i go deeper still
into this chasm of my lost self
where the valley of all her womanhood resides
and i start to swoon in the euphoric atmosphere
of being here
and yes, i am lost
and i like it
i love it
i need it . . .badly

i hear a distant drum beating
i think the natives have been aroused
as my heart excitedly considers the possibilities
of what is about to manifest
and my expectations have a taste of unrequited
and uninhibited ecstasy
all should experience
at least once in their life time

there is a fire somewhere burning
and i can smell the fumes
and feel the consuming heat
as my loins start to boil
and i smile
for this shit is good
and i would have it no other way

and though her countenance is like a sunshine to my life
the way her face lights up
and irradiates all that is about me
and as beautiful as her countenance may be
it is not her face that holds my attention in this moment
though her lips are full and pursed
my imaginings have already used them thoroughly
and the residue liquid of our pre love
drips ever so slowly upon the sheeted plane of our bed we share
puddling only to serve as a reminder
of what we are about to do
as i lay her gently upon her back

her eyes envelope me in our mutual longing for cessation
and my prominent digital elation
takes notice and leaps forward
towards it’s ultimate destiny
that it too may taste what it feels like
to be buried alive
in a liquid grave of love
a place where he will go to but shrivel and die

the door is slightly ajar
and i push with a certain determination
and i mean slowly
that i may fully enter
and enjoin our very Souls
that i may feel every crevice and nuance of a acceptance
of the offering of my firm love
and thus i am fully welcomed
into this abode of hot, steamy joy abound

as i excitedly
make known my presence
i feel her essence greet me
flowering, blossoming
to receive me
all of me
seen and unseen
like the prodigal son that i am
she embraces me
envelopes me
consumes me
and i mean totally

i begin my work
and i pay homage
deep homage to those secret places
where no man has gone before
and deep within this cavern
i find that magic door
waiting for my arrival
and i smile
as she begins to weep
the songs of ecstasy and bliss
as i kiss those lips
that drips
with the evidence
of our Love’s presence

and with no warning
the storm begins
and the fury of our congruous bodies attacks
and i put my hands in the small of her back
pulling her closer until our passion becomes one
one song of painful screams of fulfillment
as i discharge
the full charge of my orgasmic duty
of liquid love

© 16 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.