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ECHO KISS

Thursday, January 19, 2017

JUST PEACHY... TASTE AND SEE

                "Grilled on the hot seat, frozen by cold shoulder, odd how hot and cold add seasoning to season?" Peche dug spoon in bowl, dug deeper into wife's irritation, took nother bite.

                "You got peach juice running down your chin!  I just sliced those up for the cobbler!" Georgia Perzik huffed, mumbled lament, "It 'was' marinating with cinnamon and nutmeg." From cupboard she retrieved flour, sat it beside milk on counter top.

                "But it tastes so good," Peche grinned as he munched away.  Heating up the wife in the kitchen was such fun.  My how he loved her petite yet plush Cornish hen figure, as she flounced fain ire.

                "Peche, you are a sneaky peach cobbler filling pilferer!" Georgia puffed at pony tail escaped strand of auburn.  She tried not to smile at husband's most recent shenanigan.

                "But I am the Peche," the near golden skin and too blond spiked hair of the Peche glowed in the sunlight framed by kitchen window.  He offered, "I tell you what.  The Peche will re-prepare the peaches.  You just tell me what to do and we do together."

                Atonement for bad behavior should be' so easy," Georgia no longer hid smile, "but you are forgiven." And blessing clung to her thoughts as she commanded, "So okay, real simple, slice up about four cups of those up river peaches that Jana and Daryll dropped off after church.  Then stir in a tad more than a dash or two of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg.  It needs to sit for a bit." Her smile grew. "Think you can handle that Mr. Peach Poacher?"

                "Chef Peche to the rescue." The Peche sidled up next wife, planted peach sticky kiss to the prize freckles of Georgia neck.

                "Get away," Georgia giggled, gave him elbow. "Save some of that energy for later this evening when Jana and Daryll bring their hand cranked ice cream maker.  I want this peach cobbler nice and hot to melt that homemade ice cream topping."

                "But," Peche tried snuggling closer.  Again elbow nudged ribs

                "Focus, old man!  Those peaches are not going to re-prepare themselves." Georgia smiled, gave the Peche peck on cheek.

                "Ahh, the Georgia peach peck, as in I love you but... work to be done." Peche sighed, from the basket next counter retrieved fresh orchard peaches, added, "Yet, so sweet is the work."

                "Meanwhile back at the ranch, er lavender ranch that is." Georgia rebooted, took pause, gazed thru kitchen window oer lavender field to the Pedernales River below; and thought out loud, "Thank you, Jesus."  And so refreshed, in mixing bowl she then added, "Let's see: 1 cup sugar... 1/4 tsp salt... 1 tsp baking powder... 3/4 cup flour... stir it up... and now beat in 3/4 cup of milk till all the lumpy lumps be gone."

                "My beautiful wife bout ready for these peaches?" Peche held forth tad over four cups bowl of re-prepared peaches.

                "Aah, my favorite lump of all is one swift peach slicing machine." Georgia finished batter beating.

                "Ready for the Peche to stir in for you these-a 'so sweet-a' sliced peaches?" A tad over eager Peche again asked, grasped wooden spoon, readied for action.

                "Give me that bowl." Georgia snatched it from him in the nick of premature mixing. "Step away from the batter, lump boy." She commanded, then sat bowl on counter top. "First we pull from the oven," she turned, opened oven door, "this two quart casserole dish with 1/4 pound melted butter in its belly.  Then... then we without stirring pour in the batter... a reminder: without stirring... then we spoon on the fresh sliced peaches over the top of the batter... and note: this too is a no stir zone. Then all we got to do is put it in the oven at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes, or until the top is light to medium brown..."

                The door bell rang... the wine enjoyed... the homemade french vanilla ice cream hand churned... and my oh my in the sweet by and by, that ice cream topped hot peach cobbler.  But before they supped, with hands joined, guests Jana and Daryll with hosts Georgia and the Peche stood at back porch railing; eyes set upon golden sunset oer the Pedernales River; as they sang thanks giving: "O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed are they that trust in him."  Psalm 34:8

                Slow down... enjoy life... praise the One who giveth it... Father, Son, Holy Spirit...

                Note: In the Texas Hill Country lie the scenic rapids and falls of the Pedernales.  More than a tad are the peach orchards, wineries and lavender ranches that line river bank.  I think of it as: The Heart of God's Country.

                Our characters take a bow:

                Georgia - a Georgia peach transplanted to Texas

                The Peche - French for peach

                Last name Perzik - Dutch for peach

                Jana and Daryll - the neighbor peach orchard wranglers... Read their story, "Every Peach Has Its Pit" August 2015 in the menu at pawpawcorner.blogspot.com or just click the title top left of page...

                May God bless ya'll peaches, everyone... in Jesus precious name...                  

          


         

                 

                   

               

Saturday, December 31, 2016

BEADY EYED MIDNIGHT

                    Half past beady eyed midnight, in the pale moon light, mist kissed tendrils of twig epitaph, cast gnarled finger shadows upon fallen leaf path.  White and silent running shoes beat in tune with ear bud blues; while rushing was the brushing of red shorts over dark leotard, as she passed by tombstone in the church graveyard.  And her pale pony tail swished, as she sincerely wished for an oasis of peace to still her storm of insomnia sea.

                    And all the way along the way, the windows to her soul saw hungry eyes in the bushes; made the skin of her flesh crawl in chill will rushes...

                    "At what point exactly did I decide this fix for insomnia to be good?" Cheryl past puff  rued in mid huff. "This jog half past beady eyed midnight, in the pale moon light, just might fix me for good."

                    And down the fallen leaf path green eyes aglow, as if in the know, hissed out and spat, "Meee-rrr-owww," a no pass warning to get back and scat, before the attack.

                    Cheryl ran faster.  Put black cat behind her.  And as her heart fluttered, she between breaths muttered, "Scared the pee, right outta me!"

                    And did her skin crawl, as still the more she saw, predator eyes gawking, at the prey they were stalking.  Til too late to stop in the cloaking mist, dead ahead loomed hulking figure hooded dressed.  And Cheryl's white shoes in unison screeched, as, "Jesus save me!" She beseeched.

                    Into his arms she slipped.  Into terror she slid.  And he held her tight, yet calmed her fright. "Young lady, tis a bit too late at night, to from insomnia take flight." And he said, as he took gently her right arm, "Come, calm your alarm.  You have past the eyes of yon graveyard.  You are now near the house of the Lord."

                    And the hooded figure guided her up the fallen leaf path, soon lit thru stained glass windows the mist by pure light bath.  And the hooded figure said, as he pulled back cowl, "So are the windows of His church... windows of the soul."

                    Looking up into his bearded face, Cheryl wondered was this the case, "Are you Jesus?"

                    And he smiled, and he said, "Thank you, I do try, but I too was just like you, in the dark letting predator eyes run me down... when the eyes I was running from were my own."

                    And the pastor opened the door... welcomed in another soul to Jesus' shore...


Psalm 17:8 KJ: "Keep me as the apple of the eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings."


John 8:12... the light of the world, Jesus... clothes us... Isaiah 61:10

Mark 4:35-41... Jesus stills the storm... brings safe to shore...

There are over 500 verses about the eyes in the Holy Bible...

Looking out or looking in... the eyes are windows to the soul...

The eyes are wired directly to the brain, what we seek and see physically, affects us spiritually...

What we seek and see spiritually, affects us physically...

Others see us...

God sees all... and will guide our sight, if we just ask Him in the name of His son... Jesus...

Psalm 119:105 KJ: "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light to my path."

John 1:1-4 with John 8:12 KJ explains exactly who the Word and the light and the life are... Jesus...

Eyes too wide open... like focus... Genesis 3:4-5 KJ (This lie appealed to self ego and led to sweat and toil under the sun and death.)

Seek and see... focus on God thru Jesus... have  abundant life... John 10:10-11

Thank you Mel...

   

                             

                   

                       
                           


Tuesday, December 6, 2016

FIGGY MINT

                "Perhaps," Tizzie Snit spit, "we might-a should-a ought-a thought a little harder before the consequences set in." Her spit ran dry.

                Once upon a faithless cloudy day, tres primas Tizzie Snit, Hissie Fit and Naggie Pit, well off they went to pick up trio plus one compliment.  Thus did once upon a time morph once too often at the curb of Dirge Drive and Lane Lament, where Tizzie parked pink bismuth Cat-o-lac and where Misty Drizzle fell next Hissie behind driver seat in back.  And as off they went, the question loomed just how long before... off they went.

                "Hi Misty," Tizzie, Hissie and Naggie in unison gave uncharacteristic welcome to new found cousin.

                "You are late.  What took you so long?" Misty drizzled.

                "What in blue blazes!" Tizzie's knee jerk temper was caught by the firm hand of Naggie squeezing that spasmodic knee.

                "What Tizzie means," Naggie interjected, "is we stopped to get some brewskies.  Want one?"

                "Oh now that's just peachy." Misty moaned. "I'm in a car full of drunks headed to Buy It All Mall.  We will probably crash and burn before getting there.  Worse yet, I could have walked to the mall and already been there.  But no-o-o, I had to wait on you clowns, and now, because we are late, my chances of snagging a Baby Haggie Dragon for my niece are next to dodo land."

                In front seat Tizzie and Naggie gave each other eyes in corner side glance.

                Next Misty in rear seat, Hissie's left eyebrow arched near borderline red hair.

                "Brewskies!" Misty groaned. "What's the matter, life too tuff for you sissies, so you gotta drown your toad faces in frog pee?"

                Hissie's arched brow developed time bomb tic.

                "We are here!"Naggie nicked the tic. "Buy It All Mall!" She squealed; more than relieved the trip was a short one.

                However, the search for a parking spot was not a short one, nor was the walk from back of parking lot.  But the complaints of Misty, well the complaints of Misty rained longer yet; sort a summed up with one last sprinkle of fiery threat, "Late, late, late, there better be a Baby Haggie Dragon left for my niece!"

                Tizzie and Naggie flanked a red faced Hissie on both sides.  Firmly interlocking their arms with hers, they half dragged her, kept her from jerking round to fling lightning bolt into Misty cloud.

                Once in the Buy It All Mall, twas not one Baby Haggie Dragon in lair to be found.  Only the lonesome sales ad remained taped mid shelf: "Babby Haggie Dragon - evoke glowing ember poop with just one magical poo peck poke - only $66.o6."

                "If you stupid sots had been on time, I'd a had my niece that dragon.  You ignorant," expletives interrupted.

                "Oh no," Tizzie and Naggie near same time, yet too late pled, "Hissie don't!"

                In both hands Hissie snatched Misty's dark long hair, hissed, "You acid dripping punk!"

                "Snake face Hissie!" Misty snatched red hair not her own.

                Hissing and spiting, Hissie and Misty tumbled to the floor, snatching, scratching and gnawing.  Indeed twas there no lack of cat fight attack rolling down the Baby Haggie Dragon aisle of the Buy It All Mall.  Till the entangled two rolled into main aisle stack of 60 inch smart TVs, knocking them sliding across the floor.  That mini cat-tasrophe gave no pause at all to their cat claw paws, as they scratched, rolled, and romped cross top most of them all, rendering them smart TVs, not so smart at all.

                "That's it Hissie! Sink them fangs into her ornery hide." Tizzie roared.

                Two steps behind Tizzie, Naggie made things so much not better by screaming the curse, "What kind of stupid jerk morons are you!"

                Twas then the serious dual throat choking began, as ring side jeers broke out from the gathering mall crowd.  Just as the mutual choking the life out of each other two, turned a lighter shade of blue, the hero thru jeering crowd stepped thru: the rumored to exist and for sure all elusive Buy It All Mall sales assistant... whose pin on name tag read... Figgy Mint...                    

                And there Figgy stood, above the haggard two, who by now turned from lighter shade of blue to deep ocean hue. Thus, at the feet of Mr. Figgy lay the now detangled gasping for air two.

                "Baby Haggie Dragon seekers, I presume." Figgy shook head.

                "You," Misty choked out, "you got one?"

                "Baby Haggie Dragon, hm-hmm-hmmm." Figgy shook head the more.

                "I was here first," Hissie gasped out.

                "No, I was," one after another of the mall crowd avowed tout.

                "But these clowns made me late," Misty drizzled.

                "Well maam, and the rest of you folks, you do not know just how well off you are." Figgy nod affirmed. "Seems you all received reprieve from cute fluffy Baby Haggie Dragon's spell of hell." Figgy looked down at Misty. "Had you not been late, your loved one for whom that toy was meant just might have kept a for real dragon fate."

                Figgy looked up, peered all around thru crowd no longer loud.  He looked back down at Misty and at Hissie, and said, "You see it is not just you but every shopper in here who is late.  For this very morning it was as if... unseen hands held Buy It All Mall doors clamped tight.  No one got in till we received the recall notice; which is the reason for the bare shelves.  Seems when the poo peck belly button of Baby Haggie Dragon is pushed, it produces more than advertised, not just glowing poop, but for real embers, red pulsing balls of fire that have set homes and loved ones aflame.  So thank God... you are late."

                "I could have been responsible for burning up my niece and her whole family." Misty grasped only a bit of eternal flame.

                "Yes, we all need to be careful about what we bring into our homes." Figgy, a sweet kind of guy in a dietary fiber kind of a way, sighed. "For not all that is cute and fluffy is harmless.  Even that 'old deceiving dragon', Satan, the prince of darkness, masquerades as an angel of light; prowls the earth seeking whom he might devour, and drag with him into eternal flame.  Yet, so many are here to purchase, even fight to possess and bring a symbol of evil into their homes."

                "Toys, games, music, movies... what have we done?" Naggie spoke lament of most all, at the Buy It All Mall.


In this gift giving Christmas season, please be careful to honor the true light of life, Jesus... not the opposition...


John 8:12;  Genesis chapter 3;  2nd Corinthians 11:14 NIV;  1st Peter 5:8;   Revelation 20:1-2                          
               

                           

Saturday, October 29, 2016

LOOSE GRAVEL

                "Cream cheese, Hersch," from front porch, Toni Jo hollered, "two eight ounce tubs please, don't forget."

                "I am a cream cheese man on a mission!" Hersch shouted back.  The motivation of fresh baked pear cake topped with cream cheese icing burned his brain.  With saliva glands in high gear, the Hersch jumped into wild Mustang.  He spun out in the loose gravel of driveway, spewed volley of rock on a mission of its own.  And so it was that rear window and right tail light of Toni Jo's pride and joy four wheel drive pickup truck suffered Hersch's loose gravel exuberance.

                As Hersch burned rubber in all four gears down near town country road, a tad overly taut Toni Jo shuck the tawny locks of her head, stoically said, "That is the second time this month.  I just got my truck out of the body shop.  The Hersch just might not get' any pear cake." Tony Jo smiled, added, "It's a tuff job, but somebody has gotta love that pudgy receding hair line little geek."

                Toni Jo, being a little bit of country n-all, fit right in that west Texas Alpine town.  But her husband, Herschel B. Ward, well Toni Jo often thought, yet never out loud said, "The only thing keeping my Hersch from being a ward of the state is the Lord blessed him with me.  How can a man be a PhD of Philosophy at the university and a PhD of knuckle headedness at the same time?  Must be the thin air of Alpine."

                 So Tony Jo did, what Toni Jo did most Saturdays.  She returned to kitchen kingdom.  For Toni Jo baked, not just for her and her Herschel, but baked for family and friends, baked for the ill and the home bound, baked for Sunday morning church and just about any worthy charitable function. Indeed, the whole town of Alpine appreciated her God given culinary gift and humble servant heart. Not uncommon were the most every day hugs of previous baked goods recipients in the chance meetings of side walk or food market aisle or Toni Jo's Judo Dojo downtown.

                "Let's see," Toni Jo mulled pear cake recipe, "time to get started.  Combine a little less than 2 cups of sugar, 2 sticks of this good old Alpine Dairy melted butter, and half cup vegetable oil." She gave it a stir.  "Now add 3 eggs.  Stir it a bit.  Stir it a bit more.  Beat the devil out of it.  This would be so much easier had Hersch not knocked my mixer off kitchen counter yesterday."  Yet Toni Jo smiled at the sound of his name.

                Meanwhile, Herschel had reached the end of the road stop sign, just as an Alpine Dairy 18 wheeler topped the hill of what locals called Last Breath Highway.  So there the Hersch waited what could possibly be better said than un-patiently agitated, where end of the road loose gravel met intersection with Last Breath Highway.

                "Now, combine in a separate bowl 3 cups of flour, about one and a half tsp baking soda, with half tsp each of cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice."  Toni Jo stirred it together, sighed, "Now all I gotta do is alternately stir this mixture into the first with my pre-grated 3 cups of pears.  Next we stir in 1 cup grated coconut and 1 cup chopped pecans."

                "That load of moo-moo juice is slower than the cold chocolate syrup to pour in it.  I have plenty of time to beat it." And Herschel would have had plenty of that afore mentioned time had not the down hill momentum of Last Breath Highway propelled moo-moo-milk 18 wheeler ever faster; and had not the rear tires of wild Mustang went a spinning in the end of the road loose gravel.  About that somewhat less than plenty of time, Herschel decided to put his PhD of Philosophy to good use. He screamed, "Crap!  I'm gonna die!"

                "Now, all I gotta do is coax this delicious lumpy goo from mixing bowl into two floured 9 x 5 loaf pans." Enraptured in happy baker glow, Toni Jo began to flow, "Thank you, Father above..." A faint ripple of danger disturbed her flow of glow, her praise of song, made her cock head a tad.  But then, oh then, she glowed with adore, opened lips and sang the more, "Thank you Father above, in Jesus name..."

                As milk truck bumper near kissed Mustang butt, the Stang's rear tires suddenly caught hold, smoked and set pavement aflame.  And as Herschel felt the the G-force astronauts feel at blastoff, he philosophized, "Squashed back in padded seat is much better than stink bug squished on 18 wheeler windshield."

                "Time to slide these babies in the oven," Toni Jo slid in one pear cake laden loaf pan, rose the other to nose, breathed in sweet spicy aroma from one end of pan to the other. "Now that is pear cake fixin' to happen.  Nutmeg, cinnamon, coconut, allspice and pear, hmm-hmm, no one will miss one little lick," and she did.

                As the milk truck shrank in rear view mirror, and Herschel sped down Last Breath Highway, a certain cocky philosophy re-grew. "Death can't catch the Hersch!  No death for me!" But then again little did the Hersch know... the real loose gravel lay just ahead, right past Holy Smoke BBQ in the parking lot of the local Last Chance Mart.

                "One hour or so at 350 degrees ought to do it," Toni Joe closed oven door, "and the way Herschel farts around it'll be at least that long before the cream cheese arrives for the icing.  Lord please help him not to be so easily distracted.  Help my Hersch to find You as central focus."

                A tad more than too fast lead foot propelled the Stang into freshly graveled Last Chance Mart parking lot.  Hershel stomped the brakes.  The Stang slid sideways, then backwards, buried itself up to the axle in loose gravel. "Man on a cream cheese mission!" Herschel squealed, not thinking even once how close he had come to wrecking the van full of kids and mom trying to exit parking lot.  He tried to open car door, but deep loose gravel held it fast.  He tried to pull forward, but rear wheels only spun, dug the Stang in deeper.  Herschel climbed out car window.  Fell head first into loose gravel.

                Toni Jo settled back into easy chair.  Wafting aroma tickled her nose. "Pear cake heaven is just a breath away," she sang.  In mid aroma sniff, the cell phone rang.

                "I'm stuck," Hersch let fling.

                "Stuck as in you do not know what you went to the store for?" Toni Jo truly wondered.

                "Stuck in loose gravel at the Last Chance," Herschel mumbled.

                "You are mumbling.  Herschel are you picking your nose?  You always pick your nose when you are nervous."

                "No," Herschel mumbled, was near up to second digit deep.

                "Get that finger out of there!  People are going to see you," Toni Jo commanded.

                Yes Maam," Herschel obeyed.

                "I will be there in a minute, sweetie," Toni Jo comforted, hung up, did some off phone mumbling of her own. "I am supposed to be his wife, not his momma.  But I should pray, not murmur, not grumble, but ask for forgiveness and pray for my husband." Toni Jo sat still.  And she did.

                "Looks like you might need some help there, Herschel," offered a bewhiskered Big Mike.

                "Yeah, if they had packed the gravel down properly, I would not be' stuck," Herschel complained.

                "Well maybe," Big Mike raised right eyebrow, "but what do you say we get you pulled out. I'll hook up a chain to my truck.  When you get back in the car, put it in neutral and let me ease you out."

                "Trust in the Lord," Toni Jo thought. "I will be back before the pear cake is done."

                Chain in place, Big Mike eased out the slack, began to pull the Stang and the Hersch out of loose gravel.  And no sooner than, "No problem," passed Big Mike lips, and all seemed so well; that well morphed into well of hell.      

                Whether it was loose concentration, or easy distraction, or impatient agitation, or most likely chronic humanistic philosophy dodo bird flu; the Hersch dropped Stang tranny in gear and hit the gas.  The Stang fishtailed and slid.  Spinning tires spewed loose gravel thru front window of Last Chance Mart, and into the tail lights and rear back glass of near every hapless vehicle parked in the lot.

                Meanwhile, on the way down Last Breath Highway, Toni Jo prayed, "Lord, knowing my Herschel like I do, please don't let things get out of hand before I get there."

                In a really mean meanwhile, the Stang crashed into the rear of Big Mike's brand new pickup.  Twas then Big Mike swung open truck door.  Sparks from the flint neath his size 18 boots alit, as loose gravel they hit.  And with every boot stomp more sparks flew, as the madman's brow grew ill brew.  With one mighty paw Big Mike from car the Hersch he withdrew.

                Toni Jo arrived to see Last Chance Mart mob in the mood for a lynching party.  Not so nice things were a bein' said bout her Hersch.  And Big Mike, well Big Mike held fast the left shoulder of Herschel, while aiming massive fist at bulls eye nose.

                Toni Jo lept out truck just in time to hear Herschel once again put his humanistic philosophy to no good use, "Oh crap!  I'm gonna die!" He screamed. winced, closed his eyes.

                Toni Jo was about to Toni Jo Dojo Judo the Big Mike, when...

                Big Mike gave relenting, "Grrr," and his face with light began to stir. "Oh Lord," Big Mike's fist transformed to massive slap readed hand, "just one little smack?" Big Mike pled.  But then he said, "Herschel, if all you got is a PhD in humanism, then oh crap, you are gonna to die."

                Herschel opened one eye.

                Big Mike gave Herschel one big bear hug, whispered in his ear, "You need Jesus."

                Like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open, Herschel repeated the name, "Jesus," and he 'not at all' flippantly repented, "No more, no more loose gravel for me."

                Toni Jo dojo judo-ed her way right into that hug, sighed, "From fool... to cool."

                And it came to pass, cream cheese icing adorned pear cake heaven.  The Last Chance Mart had donated that cream cheese and ice cream too for 'evening celebration'; where partied: store manage, employees and patrons, and one local pastor by the name of Big Mike... For they and Toni Jo and the Hersch had found the way home...

                Too oft ism morphs idol... worship not man... but the Creator of him...

                If your wheels of life are a-spin in loose gravel... you need Jesus... the only path to God the Father... John 14:6; John 3:16

                To better understand:
                                             The Parable of the Wedding Banquet - Matthew 22:1-14
                                              Isaiah 61:10
                                              Revelation 19:7-9
                                              And many awesome more...

                Oh, and Herschel in Hebrew means deer... Psalm 42:1-2

               Oh, and Fresh Pear Cake Recipe by beloved neighbor: Minnie Powell...


      
                                                                               

Sunday, October 9, 2016

ECHO KISS

                By too far near echo kiss, by shadow scented sigh, so is the present often cast by passion from the past... even in the sweet fall air of Arbor Cafe'...

                "Taylor, please try to grasp," slow to speak, Kyle measured each word, "Taylor, you are beyond beautiful, but," Kyle took breath, could not finish sentence, drank in the smooth Calabrese olive skin of her perfect oval face.

                "But?" Taylor slightly turned, tilted side of pretty face, with lithe fingers swept light brown, almost blond hair behind ear, exposed graceful neck.

                Kyle near stopped breathing, croaked, "But it is too soon for me to feel feelings."

                "Too soon to feel feelings?  Kyle, you are my best bud.  Do you not remember helping me through the toughest three years of my life, after my Tommie, my precious husband passed away?"

                "Exactly," Kyle nodded, "best friends, and I do not want that to change."

                Taylor narrowed olive eyes, "If I were not a Christian lady, I'd say what the hell is wrong with you, Kyle?  That woman you were married to was no wife.  She ran off with your divorce lawyer to Piedmont, of all places, over five years ago.  The woman is diabolical.  She is not coming back, Kyle.  And yes, I said hell, because it is hell's intention to chain you to the past.  I pray the shackle be broken, your eyes be open."

                The widened eyes of eavesdropping Arbor Cafe' patrons cast those 'oops, this is going to get good look' at one another; while Kyle, well Kyle just sat there flustered amid Taylor allure and Taylor truth and ex-wife of aghast past.

                Taylor propped both elbows on petite cafe' table.  With palms under chin and fingers framing face, invited, "Kyle, the time is now.  Do not let these lips go unattended." Taylor moved palms to table top, leaned forward. puckered up, waited.

                Like the flag at half mast, Kyle's eyelids lowered, betrayed heart still tied to lingering echo, and he said, more bled, "Sweet Taylor, you are precious to me; but the kiss... carries risk."

                Taylor lips passed from pucker to tremble, breathed, "Kiss me... and keep your friend forever..." A purest tear welled, fell... from light of olive eye.

                With palm Kyle cupped her face.  With thumb he caressed that tear neath olive eye, and he near cried, said, "Forever be our light, like the oil of lamp pierces night..."

                "...And guide our blessed exodus from chains of the past, dear Jesus." Taylor breathed no shadow, but fresh scented sigh.

                And as friends' lips found each other... shadow of echo kiss ebbed away... in the oil of olive light...


Are you too far near... the distant past of echo kiss...

Ask Jesus into your heart... and find the light...

Exodus 27:20-21;  Isaiah 42:6-7;  John 8:12 (the meaning of this little story)

From slavery to promised land... read the true and fascinating book of Exodus in the Holy Bible. You will be blessed.        

         

Friday, September 9, 2016

THE FALLS

                    "Love is precious," pale lips puffed sigh of wist into cold, cold mist.  She pulled back scarlet hood of parka, revealed foam of sea blue eyes, feathery raven hair, freckled flesh so fair. "I will not live without my Kiefer," burned the air.

                    "Naked I came into the world," Posey shuffled bare feet cross icy rock, "and naked I go." Scarlet parka slipped from shoulders.  She stepped nearer railing.  And there Posey stood, blue eyes astare over The Falls into that void of near frozen mist, mist that painted her skin blue hue, made her husband's boxers and t-shirt cling wet to flesh.

                "The path taken... leads to destination.  Deceitful above all things, so this heart reaps deserved end.  No dream this nightmare drop neath tombstone outcrop.  No apter name than The Falls for final leap into destiny deep.  No longer my beloved Kiefer will I betray.  Take care of him Lord, I pray," Posey whispers froze in air.  In both hands she gripped hard cold metal railing.  She crawled over... to go to the other side.  Her feet touched, slipped on narrow ice covered ledge...

                No petal of Posey did fall.  For she hung over The Falls by white knuckles, palms welded frozen to metal railing.  She vainly fought to open hands.  Something more than death was wrong.  She turned head.  Her right shoulder lay twisted behind her out of socket.  She whimpered, shivered, turned head to other side. The bone of left wrist had broken thru skin; mist mixed blood down arm bled.  Posey closed her eyes and near quiet pled, "Oh dear Jesus, take me home..."

                And foam of sea blue eyes topped waves of dream, as her mind washed ashore eyes wide open... home in bed... From behind Kiefers arms gathered her in, softly spoke in Posey ear, "Naked I came into this world from my mother's womb, and naked I will go; the LORD giveth and the LORD taketh away; blessed be the name of the LORD." Kiefer kissed that ear, breathed,"For are we not the clay of the Potter? And yes, the human heart is deceitful above all things, but the heart of Jesus is pure."

                Her bosom spasmed, pale lips whispered, "What, how..." She grabbed right shoulder.  It was not out of socket, not in pain, free of ache, free to be free.  Before her face she raised left hand and wrist; no broken bone pierced her skin. "A dream, only a dream?" Posey wondered.

                "Ever beautiful," Kiefer breathed, took her hand, repeated, "ever beautiful," his hand moved, caressed her arm to shoulder, "ever precious," from back of her neck he swept dark hair, "so blessed with grace your nape of neck."

                "Kiefer, how, how can you love me, when...?" Dew dropped from eyes of Posey.

                "When I know?" Kiefer kissed that freckled nape of neck, "I know mercy, for I have received mercy." He snuggled closer.  "I know forgiveness, for I have been forgiven." His nose nestled in Posey petals behind her ear. "I know love, the very grace of peace, for... I know Jesus."

                She wiggled closer to husband, hugged tight the loving arms that held her; and as her grace full neck turned, that her lips met his, Posey was reminded what not to do anymore... by The Falls damp mist upon the boxers and t-shirt she wore...


Note: I prayed and prayed, then this little parable poured forth, along with the name Posey.  After writing "The Falls," I looked up the name Posey, found it to be a variant of Posy from the Greek Desposyni, meaning "belonging to the Lord" and used as a sacred name for the relatives of Jesus. So are all who ask Christ Jesus into their hearts. (Galatians 3:26)

Grace to the nape of the neck: Proverbs 3:3 & 22 with Isaiah 8:8 with Matthew 11:28-30(the yoke of Jesus' grace)  and Luke 15:20 in Jesus' parable of The Prodigal Son.

Set Free: John 8:1-12, 32

Giveth and taketh away: Job 1:21 KJ

The Potter: Isaiah 64:8; Genesis 2:6-7


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Thursday, July 14, 2016

ARBORIE ARDOUR

            "Abhory leech lips Arborie!" So burned the echo of time in the mind of Arborie Ardour.

            And so, oh my how so, was the love of Arborie Ardour beyond passion for little George.  Without name he had sprouted into the world, till young lady Arborie fell in love at first sight, dubbed him George, plucked him up from greenhouse nursery, adopted him as her own little loblolly sapling, planted him a few feet from backyard fence.  But alas all this was tad more than bit sad; for Arborie had long wanted, planned her first child to be a little George, but perceived herself too ugly to ever kiss a man.  Had not the children of school bullied her, tormented her, crushed her with cruel chant, "Abhory leech lips Arborie?" So all the more was the love of Arborie Ardour beyond passion for her sapling son, little George.

            Where she had planted little George?  Arborie owned half that rocky hill overlooking Valley Lake.  It was a hill whose only level ground was perfect, possessed just enough room for two Tudor style cottages.  The gabled cottage of Arborie Ardour was brick with native sandstone accent, while gabled cottage of neighbor Heath Schrub was native sandstone with brick accent. They had purchased the homes within months of each other.  Now near twenty years later there they were... still there. Why had they stayed?  Over the years both had better job offers, enticing salaries and perks to relocate.  And though they lived next lake, neither fished, neither sailed, neither swam, only loved the view, the view of Valley Lake?

            So did little George grow near that backyard fence, till one huge loblolly limb shaded also Heath's patio, a patio joined by vine arbor gate to garden of favorite and only neighbor.  And as most days, there they sat on floral pads of white wicker bench, enjoying lake breeze of early evening.

            "Arb," Heath paused, gathered glass from wicker table, took iced sweet tea sip, repeated pet name for Arborie, "Arb, you are one beautiful lady."

            Sweet tea sip past Arb lips.  Her long fingers touched slender throat, felt the sweetness flowing down.  She smiled. "Heath, if I didn't know better, I'd say that tea is getting you tingly in all the wrong places." She near giggled, felt tad of tingle too. "But I see old stick figure big lips me in the mirror every morning," she fished with allure for further compliment.

            Genuine reflection rippled the pale face of Heath from receding hairline to brow, past nose to mouth, "When you first moved in next door you were cute, yet a little lean; but over the years I've seen..." Heath stopped, looked away to Valley Lake below, then turned head to face her, "but over the years I've seen that stem figure blossom to match your full flower lips.  I, ah..." Heath's courage fell short, for he'd said only in part, the needs of the heart.

            Arb took nother sip of sweet tea, swallowed, and in shuddering breath uttered, "Yet, in all these years we have sat together on this garden bench, you have not put your arm around me?" She sat tea glass down on wicker table, ran fingers thru his belt loop, pulled herself close.  She lay palm on his chest, moved other round his neck... planted kiss... her first kiss of a man... neath the shade of the once little George.

            Oh what bliss, that long awaited kiss blessed by spring breeze caress. Till one too many puffs turned to huff, shook free dangling loblolly cone, one receding hairline to bean to the bone.

            Heath hadn't thought kissing would be so painful.  He ignored the trickle of wetness down forehead, to nose, then lips, till both tasted it, and together said, "Blood?"

            No time to wipe the blood from her lips, she held Heath's face in both hands, saw pine cone tooth stuck in his receding hairline, instinctively plucked it out. "Oops!" Arb aired err; for she'd burst river dam. The flood of blood was on.  Arb grabbed napkin from table and applied pressure to stop the bleeding.  She stood up to get a better look, reapplied pressure, kidded, "I think you might live.  Not all that falls from the sky is painless." Looking down at her patient, Arb smiled.  She liked taking care of Heath.  She giggled.  She sighed.  For Arb saw her own reflection in Heath's deep blue eyes.

            Looking up into the chocolate almond eyes of Arb, Heath breathed, "Not all that falls from the sky is without purpose.  For who rides his chariot of clouds; walks upon wings of wind; wears garment of light; stretches out starry curtain of night.  Perhaps our Creator sent puff of breath thru his loblolly tree, to make pine cone his messenger be."

            "And what is this message?" Arb asked, Arb smiled, as she tended the wound of his head.

            "To get off this bench, and to get down on one knee." Heath did what he said.  Heath reached in hip pocket, what was in velvet case was - no - locket.

            "Thank you, Jesus," gushed from heart, past the full, oh my how so full, and beautiful rose lips of Arborie Ardour.

            Many kisses... a wedding and one year later...  little Georgette was born...

            Sometimes more is loved than the view... the view of Valley Lake...

                                     Psalms 104:1-5 & 8:1-9

                                     Proverbs 3:11-13

            Sometimes we need a pine cone to the head... to get on the right path to God's blessings...