Merry Christmas, all! Hope yours were happy and you got lots of kala (Hawaiian
for
goodies and money). Hawaiian is my other 1/3 life, besides the Mid East dancing
stuff
(last 1/3), and of course the Vets (now that messes up the thirds, doesn't it?
Makes it into
fourths.)

Sitting here, alone at a friend's house that I'm house/cat sitting, it's
Christmas, raining and
snowing up the road aways (upper Glendale hills -- yes we got snow last week!
The
Plumerias not sure what is going on. No money, no job since Sept 07, no
prezzies, but
that's no big thing. Don't have a car since mine gave up the ghost; but at
least not
spending the night out at the screen house in the back yard that is going to be
my new
home (hey, beats sleeping in the car... oh wait, there is no car!)... and doing
my annual
Hannibal-thon -- reading, watching and feeling everything to do with Hannibal
and
George. (Do this every year because so many peeps have died at Christmas, so
the
holiday has been forever dimmed for me. Immersing in Hannibal and George
literature
gives me something as a panacea to get through it.) And I even usually write a
few
things... have done it this month, but it's what the Japanese call a "pillow
book", which is
basically nothing more than one sex encounter after another designed to make the
reader
receptive to his/her partner to come. So, this is not something I want to post
publicly, at
least not till a few names are changed <grin>. It is fun thinking up new and
different (and
tantalizing) ways to get the old Colonel going. For those who like that sort of
stuff, you
would definitely get jazzed...

So found this and thought I'd repost it... some insights have come to me this
year, and I
think if I'd been a bit more forward, George would've responded. He left all
kinds of open
doors, and I didn't take advantage of them because I was overboard aware of and
respectful of his private space. In hindsight, boy was I stupid! Wish I had
someone I could
really talk to about it... analyze it more carefully...sigh. Where's Richter
when you need
him?

Anyway, wrote this back in 2003 and thought I'd dust it off.

Enjoy, and have a good New Years. I may post some more stuff here for you all.
Rita R

MAGGIE'S VALENTINE -- TO HANNIBAL:

Twinkling blue eyes, that cocky grin,
I don't have to visualize to know it's him.
Feet splayed apart in that military stance,
Arms held out, coaxing, enticing me to dance.

Silver hair gleaming, a sheen in the light,
Makes my knees go weak even as I fight,
To stand tall, straight and proud,
My hands firmly clenched, their journey not allowed.

I want him more than words can express,
His eyes, heart, mouth, soul, and yes, sex.
But once that door was opened, we could never go back,
It could never be same once we hit the sack.

So I watch him, longing written all over me,
Cursing the fate that makes him flee,
Ever on the run, can't stay in one place,
Our love would be nothing more than a harried race.

I have my life, so safe, warm and secure,
But it's so damned empty without those eyes of azure,
Watching me, teasing me, with ever so gentle touch,
Then leaving me wanting, more from him, God, so very much.

So he shows up on my doorstep, that ragged grin alight,
A hurried coupling; touch, ecstasy and then flight.
He can't stay here long, that I know,
It would be death for him to be discovered so.

I know one day, he may never come back,
The battle lost in some last, hopeless attack.
On that day I will mourn, pouring out my soul,
And will wait out my lifetime, til at last we're joined...

... finally whole.


Rita