2 AM Is For – Poem

This is something from puttering around with all kinds of thoughts in the last week and a half. From meeting this guy that I just now can’t get to know for a bit…. Thank you Covid-19, I hate you right now.  To big 1980s hair and makeup and smelling my grandparents cabin in an instant déjà vu moment. The lava soap on the counter, Irish Spring soap in a metal shower. And well, wishing for a little more than I have right now. Ah, spring is in the air. Here I go again.

2AM Is For

Smell Lava soap , a linger of a déjà vu of a memory
Stepping into the side door of the cabin’s
washroom
mudroom
bathroom
laundryroom
to the upstairs and all else room
Concrete sinks, and propane and the old wood and canned food pantry
Lingering odors
When 2 AM rolls around and the Irish Spring bubbles spiral
down the metal shower drain
spreadsheets have been left behind, sitting open on a screen
Orderly columns and rows, lists for this, itemized for that—
For standing naked in a mirror, curls bouncing on your shoulders
a nineteen eighties fashion girl, big makeup, big hair
Maybe he’s watching a film
Maybe you’re hoping for more than might be there
But you wear your hair down a little more, a little longer
Maybe he’s drinking that drink you wish you were sharing
And you dress a little more carefully
2 AM isn’t for the mundane, it’s for the magic
Past the witching hour,
When all the poets are awake
When night air slips in through screens
Taste the ice on the tongue, mountain’s metal coldness a cold cloak
To your Gypsy’s hide, it’s been tanned smoothed down soft and skin fresh
Aquamarine earrings swing back and forth
Put on a little Pharrell and dance around naked
Your unbridled you, that part of yourself you hide all day
Moonlight could be your sunlight
You are the alive in these waking hours
a longing for something to happen
when colors and magic spells flow
out of your fingers and the air shakes and shimmers around you
Spin out, spin around, dress in silks and feathers,
2 AM is the time to roost and let the whispers in
let the shimmering bubbles slide down the drain
2 AM is for…

Flash Fiction : Magic Orb

She watched the magic explode in her open palm.  A sparkling swirl of gold dust and  white hot light.  She was amazed to see it finally come out of her for the first time after so much practicing.

“Hold it,” he whispered in her ear.  She shivered as she felt a frisson of awareness travel up her spine.  The orb of magic fluctuated slightly as she was distracted by his voice. Then, before she even knew what hit her, his finger slid up her arm.  She felt the power in him explode through her blood, only to register with a more intense orb in her palm. The orb sparkled and started to swirl with little flashes of lightning. His power was entering her and combining with hers to create something new.  Something wonderful.  Something that was more than she could handle in the space of a few moments.

She lost her concentration, focusing more on the way his thumb stroked the soft flesh of her arm, and the orb fizzled into nothing.  She felt him sigh, and she couldn’t help her answering one.  Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“It’s okay.  You did well for your first time.  I pushed you too far by adding my own,” he said softly.

She stepped back from him, trying to calm her nerves.  It was one thing to feel her own power manifest itself in her palm.  It was an entirely new thing to feel his flowing through her, not to mention the awareness she felt with him so close.

She watched him as he absentmindedly opened his palms and his magic exploded itself into a mini storm cloud, complete with lightning, in his hands.  The storm swirled and the little crack of thunder made her jump.  How would she ever be able to handle that running through her?  It was bad enough with him just touching her.  Add in the electricity factor and it seemed impossible.

Oh, it’s amazing what the images on Tumblr envoke.  I saw the first picture the other night, and immediately an idea formed in my head.  Then I saw the second and new it just fit perfectly with the little story idea.

Rarely do I write science fiction.  I just don’t feel like I have a grasp of it, as it isn’t a genre I read a lot.  But, then certain bits of sci fi grab me, and I just feel so connected.  Certain books, specifically Patricia Wrede and Caroline Stevermer‘s  Kate & Cecelia series.  I love the ‘magic’ and wizard quotient.  It makes the stories so much fun.  Well, these two pictures are similar in thinking to that.  Maybe someday I’ll be able to write something like that. Who knows.  Enjoy.

Signing off

~Kate

Christmas Tree Magic

She sat in the glitterning darkness of a sparkling Christmas tree.  The white lights were like little fairies come to rest, the blue balls shown like the night sky. Icicles dripped from the branches adding a graceful elegance to the already delicate boughs.  Snowflakes winked in and out among  cranberry balls.  Here and there were sparkling red snowflakes. Drenched in red glitter they were etherial.  The whole tree was a confection to the eyes. One filled with delight and magic.  One could just picture Santa coming to  tuck presents beneath the boughs.

There was a enchanting sensation  to the room. Decorated to the nines, one could not help feeling that they had entered either a winter wonderland, or Saint Nick’s own abode.  The mantle held garlands of fragrant pine.  Red bayberry candles, with their yellow flames, flickered in and out of the greenery.  Plush red stockings hung by cheerful snowmen, santas, and reindeer.   Tables were layden with  overflowing bowls of candy.  Red and green M & M’s filled a chubby Santa’s sack; candy canes hooked over square glass cubes, filled to the brim with holiday kisses.  Caramels, fudge, and toffee.  It was a child’s paradise. 

It was perfect for her.  She sat with her mug of hot chocolate.  Curled up on a sofa, snuggled in a warm wool sweater and socks, it was the epitome of Christmas. One couldn’t ask for anything better.

 

 

Signing off

~Kate

P.S. This was just me in an inspirational mood. I have a glorious tree this year and it’s quite magical.