Wednesday, 8 September 2021

Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (72) Christmas Party Girls

Steve Danone hated office parties, but at Cooper, Brandon and Holland Accountants in Shallowfield, it was an annual ritual that apparently had to be endured.

The reason he didn’t like them was that all the really nice girls turned out to have no taste in men whatsoever, the plain homely looking ones turned out to be total sluts, the friendly ones got all bitter and depressed and the outgoing bubbly ones just got falling down drunk.

And it was worse that year in particular because there was one girl that he particularly fancied, Carol Herd, and he really didn’t want to see what became of her after a few drinks so he went across the street to the Plough for a couple of hours and when he returned the party was over.

There were one or two revellers remaining, a middle-aged man called David was unconscious at his desk, a girl called Ellie from accounts was throwing up in her waste bin and a plain looking woman from legal called Dorcas was spread-eagled across the conference room table singing “O Holy Night”.

And the only thing about the scene that surprised him was that she was the senior partner.

“Same old, same old” he said as he returned to his office where he found Carol Herd sitting in his leather chair behind his desk.

“I think you are in the wrong office,” he said thinking she was drunk but she stood up and walked towards him

“Oh I don’t believe I am” she said, stone cold sober “Especially now that you’ve finally got here”

 

 

PRISONER OF LOVE

I stole a glance at you

Lustfully larcenous

More than one in fact

I was a repeat offender

A serial gazer

In perpetual regard

Loitering with intent to stare

In open mouthed infatuation

And you caught me

Apprehended me in the act

Of elicit observation

Your arresting look

Took custody of me

A petty felon

With prior form

And with merciless intent

You stole my heart

Without hesitation

No mere act of petty larceny

You took it from me

And at once captivated me

Imprisoned me

Behind the bars of love

Once in your possession

It became valueless

Scornfully regarded

You keep it under glass

On display

Where you can watch it beat

Or by capricious whim

Play with it

Like a cat plays with a mouse

While I die by inches

Knowing you have my heart

But not one of your own

So sits a prisoner of love

In sight of death row

Indefinitely incarcerated

Behind the bars of love

No hope of parole 

THE RUSTIC STILE AT LANES END

 

At lanes end

The rustic stile

Stands sentinel still

Marking that special place

Where the fates conspired

Our souls should meet

Though we purposely

Trod opposing paths

We met at that rustic spot

And to help you cross

I took your hand

Small and silken soft

Guiding you safe to my side

And despite the presence

Of each others companions

We were to all intents

Quite alone

And in those moments

When hand touched hand

We at once beheld

Our lives from that point on

Would be forever altered

And were content

With that destiny

 

At lanes end

The rustic stile

Stands like a monument

Marking the place of alteration

A significant place

A spiritual place oft revisited

And on such sojourns

We would find renewal

As the energizing memory

Of that special moment

Assailed our senses

Essentially invigorating

Like imbibing the waters

From the fountain of youth

And our hearts would once again

Resound with joyousness

And sweet moments of romance

Those excited tingles

Of loves first passion

When hearts beat faster

And desire courses

Through every fibre

The thrill of blossoming love

Adding to the strata

Of our love laid down

Through all our years

By returning to the place

Of loves wondrous inception

We keep our love alive

And in equal measure

Love returns the favour

ALL OF MY LIFE

 

All of my life

I have had no talent

Hidden or on show

No gift or endowment

No skill or mastery

No bent or flair

Ability or forte

Nothing to mark me out

From the common herd

Or stand me out from the crowd

All of my life

I have been ordinary

Mediocre and average

Quite mundane and everyday

No hint of genius

Expert only in my ordinariness

But content in my mediocrity

All of my life

I have been un-ambitious

No goals to be achieved

Not driven by desire

In any shape or form

Some might say shiftless

I would say satisfied

Happy with my lot

All of my life

I lived a half life

Until my outlook changed

When I saw you smile

And heard you speak my name

I was born again

With new purpose

A new vocation

To shed my mediocrity

And cast it aside

Like a well used coat

And dig deep within myself

To find that dying ember of desire

That almost imperceptible spark

So clearly visible to you

And breathe life into it

Until white hot

And then fan the flames of passion

You have ignited in me

All the rest of my life

Endowed with your gift

I will feel extraordinary

And with my new found ambition

My one and only goal

The soul purpose of my being

Is to make you truly happy

As happy as you have made me

And with all my heart and soul

I will dedicate myself

To always loving you

Tuesday, 7 September 2021

Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (71) The Solicitor’s Receptionist

 

Phil Marlow woke up exceptionally early and was exceptionally grumpy, which was quite unusual for him, but on this particular morning he was too grumpy for words and he wanted to cheer himself up at the earliest opportunity.

And the reason for his grumpiness was the firm of Shallowfield Solicitors, Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, or more precisely Catherine Kimber the receptionist thereof.

 

His dealings at the Solicitors were concerning the settling of his late father’s estate which turned out to be quite protracted.

The particular Solicitor he was involved with was Linda Baxter, an attractive woman, tall and slender in her early thirties who wore a tailored business suit and spectacles, and she spoke in posh plummy tones, and had a sexy way of peering over the top of her spectacles which was very alluring.

But as attractive, glamorous, and alluring as she was with her posh voice and magnificent long legs she was way out of his league so he didn’t find her a distraction.

However Phil was on a mission to find a significant other to settle down with once his father’s affairs had been settled and he rather liked the look of the receptionist.

 

On his first visit he gazed lustily down her top at the quite pleasing vista restrained in a pink satin bra, which was a delightful surprise because her outer garments were very unremarkable, and when she realized he was staring down her top she quickly covered herself up and let out a rather disgusted exclamation, but then she smiled at him and blushed.

He may have thought her a straight laced prude, but he liked that, it had always turned him on, partly because of the challenge but more often than not because they turned out to be less straight laced beneath the façade.

So he returned her smile and asked

“Do you have anything with the address and phone number on?”

“Oh yes” she replied eagerly “I could give you one of my cards”

“Thank you….”

Catherine” she said “Catherine Kimber

“Thank you Catherine

He wasn’t sure if he would ever call her but he had learned to keep his options open.

Phil thought that with regular visits to the offices he would get numerous opportunities to speak with her, but alas no.

And that was why he was grumpy because he had concluded his business with Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles, and he hadn’t asked her and nor had he phoned her.

 

So with the day beginning grumpily, he needed to find the courage to pick up the phone.

There were a number of local girls who had made it perfectly clear that they were willing and able but they weren’t really his type whatever that meant, but they were too pushy for his liking.

Even busty Belinda the gardener, who he had inherited so to speak from his father had given him the green light.

He had even considered going for the soft option of asking his ex-girlfriend Jenna Stimson out, things weren’t so bad with her, she was very nice, he could do a lot worse, and she didn’t want to break up in the first place.

So he took his phone from his pocket and was about to dial her number when he exclaimed

“What the hell are you doing? Her favourite colour is beige”

So without over thinking it he phoned the Solicitors

“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”

“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”

 

He had considered going for the soft option of asking his ex-girlfriend Jenna Stimson out, things weren’t so bad with her, she was very nice, he could do a lot worse, and she didn’t want to break up in the first place.

So he took his phone from his pocket and was about to dial her number when he exclaimed

“What the hell are you doing? Her favourite colour is beige”

So without over thinking it he phoned the Solicitors

“Pangbourne, Parker and Knowles”

“Hello Catherine” he said “it’s Phil Marlow”

 

When he reached the building he went upstairs and stopped at the receptionist’s desk, which was deserted, and so he waited.

It was quite late in the day, late enough that almost everyone had left for the day.

He wasn’t there more than a few minutes before the cute blonde receptionist appeared surrounded by a cloud of freshly applied perfume.

Although in truth Phil was more interested in her rather than the perfume that surrounded her, but it was very pleasant nonetheless.

“Hello, you look lovely” he said and moved in for a kiss which he fully expected to be one of those air kiss affairs but Catherine had other ideas.

She planted a kiss straight on his lips and as soon as mouth met mouth her tongue engaged his own in oral combat and they wrapped themselves in a tender embrace.

He had wanted to kiss her the first moment he saw her and she was of similar mind but had thought the kiss would never materialise which was why she took it when it was offered.

“We have to stop” she said “Someone might see”

“Damn I was enjoying that” he said as he watched her adjusting her apparel.

“So was I” she admitted “shall we go”

They went down the stairwell towards the basement carpark but stopped half way down for another kiss which soon reignited passions flame, but when a stairwell door opened and closed either above or below she pushed him away and again straightened her clothes.

“Someone is going to see us” she said nervously

“Let’s go then” Phil said and took her hand and they ran down the stairs to the carpark.

 

When they reached her car Catherine fumbled for the car keys in her bag and failed.

“Your hands are shaking” he pointed out

“I know that’s your fault” she said and tipped the contents of her bag on the bonnet.

“Why?” he asked innocently

“You know why” she replied “because I thought you were never going to call and you did out of the blue and I just want our first date to be perfect, and I’m so nervous, and I’m going to stay nervous until I get you somewhere where I can kiss you in peace, which isn’t going to happen if I can’t find my bloody keys”

“You don’t need your keys for what I have in mind” Phil said turning towards her.

“Does it involve waiting patiently?” she asked

“No”

“Thank God” she replied and turned her head to kiss him.


SNAPSHOT

 

I held her picture

Posed for posterity

A picture of a young girl

In a summer dress

A “hand me down”

Pattern faded

With fraying hem

A pretty young woman

Face of innocence

Framed by brown tousled hair

Naïve and unaffected

Unsure of her beauty

And more beautiful

Because of it

Such a wonderful snapshot

Of a perfect moment

So long ago

I fell in love with her that day

My heart melted

Like the snow in spring

I love her still

And every day in between

Tears welled in my eyes

As I looked at that picture

Of naïve beauty

And they fell unchecked

As I remembered

The woman she became

And the love we shared

Until she was taken from me

TAINTED LOVE

 

Cruel fate

Cursed our souls

When cupids arrow

Missed its aim

And speared our hearts

Hearts not free to love

Hearts otherwise wedded

In blessed union

 

But cupids strike

Left us fettered

Bound together
With loves chains

Enslaving us

Bonding us with love

Conjugated by fate

Entangled marionettes

Puppets of love

Reluctantly performing

To another’s will

 

Held in love's grip

By fates curse
That bitter sweet gift

Of deceitful ardour

Duplicitous romance

Forbidden passion

That gift of love

With the curse of betrayal

 

Knowing loves intimacy

The joy of closeness

The warmth of tenderness
Passion made manifest

Emboldened the psyche

Elevated the soul

Flames of passion

Burning deeply

Cleansing all

But the guilt

 

Enchanted by Eros

Beguiled by Amor

Spellbound by adoration

But gripped by fear

Fear of being together

Fear of discovery

But the overriding fear

Of separation