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If a Whisper…

if a whisper had a place
that was alive and a shape
..if a whisper..was the wind
or the sound from within..
..the calm that I find
the complete that feels right
..is when you speak...whisper
to my mind
.. ..I sit and try to slow
the flashes of imagery that
know me now ..
  from you and you  and your
whispers into my mind

Only a Shirt..

was only a shirt.....
lay draped across her...barely
barely opened
...white of color seemed to hold..
her heat yet beckon
my touch....
was only a
as I kiss...wetting the cloth
moans of want
pushed through...guiding my hands
sliding easily across
finding the softest flesh
..reaching for me.. glistening
a shirt...
now lowered...
tracing with eyes ...
following the path...of tongues swirling kiss
now I become
only a shirt


once I was shaving..
yes..I do ..try to be clean
I was shaving and thought of the skin
and its..sheen
the softness now
the stubble 
barely seen..
once I was shaving..and then I thought
of thee

..how smooth is your skin
I... inhale with a kiss
how light is your touch 
when you find me....

Once I was shaving..
and there you were
sliding upon my flesh..soft...and firm
..oh my goodness I have lost my mind
..for I think of you now
all the time
as I shave as I move
get dressed or just....
yes... all the time..
I was shaving..and there you were
on my mind

My Time

I have felt the cool of grass
beneath my feet of youth
  flew through the clouds
with imagination of time
lifted into her soul
like the leaf into the wind....

tripped and fell into the abyss
finding light still
..seen the moon with dark
and the sun with its ..heat

tasted the salt of tears
and the flow of love within
walked into the cold waters
and found comfort against
the rocks of softened rhyme

lay bare in the vile yet washed
with a slow glance of hope
again and again.....this way
of breath inhales upon my flesh

...I will pull out of this life called
skin....a time I know not
 and I will will feel the cool grass
against my soul...watching the time
of another 

Fire Fly

She walks and I watch her.... soft
I see where I want to be
Across her skin into her soul
Her eyes I crave
To see that passion .. lust want
Her legs I want to feel open 
And rise above the sheets of cool
Thrusting.. is my wish
Tasting my pleasure..
My ache
She is beautiful of soul and flesh
And all woman.. hot with flashy feisty intensity
..she is a dream .. a wish
.. a thought
that finds the place of spark.. teasing it to
not allowing it ..to
.. a moment..
yes ...she is the magic .. the wonder
the fantasy ..of a moment
moments live a life beyond our grip
our touch
our sight..
she is a moment
captured.. for a moment within my soul

   Distracted Flight
  Mitch Bensel

I was cycling one day, starting my routine after a year sabbatical of rest and frustration. The suns heat always takes me back to the time of youth, with the air surrounding, daydreams flying and magic with just one thought. The flats are easy, and the hills of course are hills. Nature puts them in our path to humble us as we try to walk across its path of life. On this day I decided to go to the park and ride.  

This park is beautiful with a creek that follows you, trees and of course hills. Not your average hills, these are hills that seem like flat road then suddenly you cannot breathe and have to stand just to go two miles an hour. I am exaggerating a little, but nonetheless they are difficult. I had pushed the flats a bit too much and too hard for the little bit of time I had returned to cycling. In other words I had bitten off more than I could ‘pedal’.  

 “Why am I about to have to climb this mountain?” My mind starts to do that swirl thing, with images of falling over and the cyclist behind me laughing as he flies past, using the air as his friend then shooting some rocks at me with one last push into the horizon. The flight down the hill is always exhilarating, but pay back is the haul back up the hill. Once down in the valley it’s like you are in a place of challenge, and the sun, the trees and that one butterfly wait to watch you move up and up and up that hill. “It’s getting closer” I think of this hill and create a mountain in my mind. “I could turn around” No I can’t for I am down in the valley now and the only way out is ‘up’.  

Looking at the creek for a moment I feel it’s cool and see that beauty of its movement with the light dancing, the rocks holding but for a moment, the waters touch then watching the water fall down and onto another rock then into the depths of itself to fill that pool of tranquility. “Oh hell!” The hill has already begun and I was not prepared I had been looking at the waters, the waters, “yes think of the…” Breathing harder now I have to stand just a bit to pick up some speed, the hill is winning too early and I have a mile of it to go. Just look at the ground, turn your circles, inhale, exhale.  
My thoughts of days of training fly to try to find escape from this fatigue. A cyclist of much better shape flies past me; I lower my head and just try to breathe. “Whatever, my thoughts of how I will defeat that cyclist one day, “you just wait until...”  

Sitting now I turn my circles, my mind is racing with those thoughts to wuss out and change into a granny gear. “NO!” I am an athlete and a cyclist and I will not use that Granny gear. A granny gear is one that is easier to turn, hence granny, for like old grannies to use “NO!” the image of me spinning like a baby up this hill causes me to stand and push my big gear harder. Just breathe, just. Suddenly a butterfly flips around in front of my wheel. It slows then lifts to my face flapping its silly self in the air. I am curious as to why it seems to be looking at me. It then dove down and flew through my front wheel, back and forth. Wow, how is it doing that. Now flying all over the place as they do, it came up to my shoulder. Just flying beside me up and down up and down but staying at my shoulder. I started to smile at this butterfly; it was yellow and so alive and light. Then it moved in front of my face again and fluttered for a bit there, felt like it was staring into my eyes, for a moment it dashed around me then was back in front of my front wheel. This was fun, but as suddenly as it arrived it floated away. I looked to the left at the beautiful field of flowers it had flown to, I then realized I was at the top of the hill. I had forgotten I was pushing up the hill, straining, and breathing. I was at the top. Refreshed and not even tired.  

The butterfly that visited, or was it an angel or a wish that flew to assist me, to distract me, to allow me to fly up that hill with the flight and the ease that a butterfly enjoys.