52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 32


‘Red Herring’ Self-Portrait

The photo theme for week 32 was ‘Red’.

Decided to write a little poetry for this one. Enjoy!

‘Red Herring’

“Hungry?” You ask

“Starving” I reply

So famished in fact

I’ll devour every lie

Garnished just so

Seasoned to my taste

Red Herring served cold

Sits beautifully on my plate

A dish you prepare




And me, so hungry

I eat every bite.

~Dye Stormere


“Type hard, like you mean it!”




poetry ~ Nirvana ~


My body has many different curves
each one ready
to be served

But take your time
explore every nook
there is usually one that’s overlooked

It’s that pocket of space
just above my thighs
to come inside

The perfect place
to lay down a kiss
a gap
complete pure bliss

Do you think you can handle the thrill?
because it has been calling
for you to come fill

poetry ~ Rain ~



I’m sure there was more to it

as I glance back to that moment

when my mind and body decided to do their own thing


I remember the drive like it was yesterday

drops of water pelted against the windshield

sounds of swooshing from the blades


on the way

I had my doubts

an affair was never my plan

but there I sat


minutes passed

I meant to drive away


I was contemplating my next move

knowing nothing was right about what I wanted to do

but before I had the chance to go

you met me halfway


soaking wet

you were drenched

in summer scents

it didn’t matter what was said

the visions I had of us in my head

already crossed that line and instead

of turning back down the lane

we kissed


you smelled like rain

on a warm sunny day

your white cotton tee


exposing every ripple underneath

leading me to that V

cut just above your jeans

even though it wasn’t right

I had no will

or desire to fight

I peeled back every layer

every thread

towards the house

up each tread

in your bed


It was too good

to be wrong

that is how I sing the song

when people asked why I caused

‘him’ so much pain

I simply say

I couldn’t resist

you smelled like summer rain




poetry ~ Delicious – An Erotic Treat ~


I was hungry for your touch

I begged you for it……”please”

With your hands beneath my dress

You fed my every need


A sudden loss of breath

The air escaped my lungs

You pressed your fingers in my mouth

and placed them on my tongue


“Lick,” you whispered in my ear

“See how sweet you taste?”

You grabbed my hair…..kissed my neck

Your beard against my face


Slowly pulling at my hem

You fell onto your knees

I knew without a question

You were hungry just like me


Of all the different dishes

and the spices that were savored

I think you would agree with me

We both enjoyed the flavors





poetry “~ Well-Read ~”



Patiently waiting

Can you hear me say?

“Touch me”

“Read me”

“Let’s get lost for the day”


A story for you

my literary lover

You’ll enter my soul

as you reach for the cover


Your fingers go dancing

Stroke along my spine

“Tell me,” you say


“Say you are mine”


I’m yours to read

‘Your’ pages to trace

Together we’ll travel

and escape this place


A life out of focus

where reality is a blur

Sighs from your lips

as you taste each word


By the end of the night

I will share in your bed

You ‘never’ disappoint

You keep me well-read



poetry “Not a Poet, I know it ~ Limerick Stew”


Decided to write a Limerick

The words I chose were a little sick

I tried to stay clean

But got too obscene

I gave up and said…the heck with it!

Or perhaps a new Send-Jew-Rue

Or maybe a simple Hi-Coo

But aren’t they the same?

Just two different names?

To whatever you say… screw you!

Have opted to go Free Verse

Stumbled and started to curse

Going to slow

Words didn’t flow

Better off left to rehearse

Much nicer to call it a Prose

Like the sweet, sweet scent of a rose

But that crap was stinking

The heck was I thinking

I’d much rather pierce my nose

I throw out some words that might rhyme

But I never put in the time

Fill them with fluff

Never real stuff

True poets must find this a crime

Call it whatever you want

I have no talent to flaunt

But I typed up this poem

From a seat in my home

And added a stupid font

Sometimes I need a good slap

Instead you stand and you clap

But what can I say

You’ve brightened my day

Thank you for reading my crap


poetry “A Self Portrait of Me, Myself and I”


In the mirror, here is what I see

Pretty good looking girl looking back at me

Conceited? you might say, but I think not

But truth be told, I’m F-N’ hot!

Can’t stop laughing at the thought

Mouth typically open with foot caught

Pouty lips beneath Monroe dot

Chestnut hair, some black like night

A few plucked greys, and pulled out whites

Frown lines form at the unflattering sight

Long and soft with some loose curls

Hanging down, they reach the girls

Mix of hues and shades that swirl

Light brown eyes that capture the sun

Few crows feet but still look young

Heavy lids, yet I don’t look strung

Makeup always, it’s a must

Worn all day from dawn to dusk

Accentuating eyes that speak of trust

My nose is normal, about the right size

Seated centered beneath my eyes

It doesn’t grow, the truth, no lies

My mind is a house that’s always cluttered

Un-shut windows with open shutters

I try to stay focused but I live in the gutter

A smaller package at five foot two

Petite frame with good sized boobs

But still insecure, it’s sad but true

Overall I’m happy with the things I see

I never really stopped to just look at me

But I think I’m alright and my husband agrees