Regular readers will know I love the work of Texan Storyteller, Writer & Poet Randy. For new visitors I am delighted to introduce you to my talented friend and his creativity 😀 ✒️📖 His latest work is lush. A very erotic and sexy piece. Enjoy!
Randy is a vibrant and interactive member of the Twitter community, follow him for more!
I am once again honoured to share the work of the sultry and soulful songstress, Pamela from Penny’s Scar. I particularly love this track. Follow Penny on Twitter and listen to her catalogue of gorgeous alternative ballads for free on SoundClick.
I cried and I tried but I just can’t hold it in
All the pain
I scream when I dream all these thoughts in my head
They keep haunting me
Breathing in these things
The clock on the wall keeps looking back at me
Why are you screaming
The hurt well I tucked it away underneath
Well I still feel everything
Crawl every time but you won’t see me
I’m hiding from me
All of the pain that feels you why you bleed
There’s time to breath
Breathing in these things
Why does a heart start to bleed when it needs too much
Does it ever fade
Why do we love more than love holding onto it at all
It is my absolute pleasure to welcome back to EdenDene Books one of my favourite Artists, the beautiful and talented Penny from Penny’s Scar. Her voice transports me to a special place, her vocals are sultry, soft, sexy and lush.Her songs, deep, meaningful, mysterious and touch both heart and soul. Listen for yourself and hear and feel the magic that is Penny’s Scar.
“He’s in you, He’s in me…The gentle breeze rustling through the trees and sun kissed rain falling upon storm tossed seas”
The open road can be very long when you are weary and have travelled way too far with a heavy burden of baggage of life slung on your back. I see by your eyes you are tired and alone, so come join me, sit down. Warm your bones by my fire. Kick back, rest for a while. Hear me strum my guitar, we’ll serenade the night by the light of the moon and soft starlight. I can offer you to sup the fruit of the vine, some elderflower wine, maybe a drop of Moonshine, or Dandelion beer? Whatever your choice, a cup of good cheer.
In the words of my song, there’s a tale to be told, my story is not new but a ballad of old. You see I have walked this path for many a year and many a traveller has greedy an ear to sit down and share good food sizzling on the pan and hear the music retell the ‘Ballad of the Magical Music Man’.
He was the stranger I met outside my tent, just like you, when my soul was rent and this old heart heart has been broken in two. Chanced upon me singing the blues for those feeling old, battle worn and ravaged by time, strumming their stories in words and in rhyme.
He sat down beside me, kicked off his travelling boots and warmed his toes by the fire. I noticed the flames grew brighter and quite a bit higher. I saw the smile in his eyes, they laughed at it all, the highs and the lows, just how we can fall and how we can soar. Take flight, feeling fear like a Doe or face the good fight with a Lion’s roar.
“Met them all, without judgement”… he said, “those fizzing with life and the walking dead! Saw deep in their hearts and souls, secrets long buried, so easily read.”
The Magical Music man? I asked where was he from? He grabbed a banjo and just started to strum. Asked where he was heading? His cobalt eyes looked to a star strewn sky, “How’s that for bedding?!'”Came his enigmatic reply.
The tales he could tell brought laughter and tears. Taught you enjoy your life and face your fears. He’d easily pick up and play many a tune on a tin whistle, a flute lute or lyre. By the light of moon and fading camp fire. He’d make a Mandolin sing with plaintive desire. Told me he’d climbed the Himalayas, played both Bowls and Tingsha in Tibetan Temples on the roof of the World and the Banjo in the mountains of Appalachia. Said he’d sat with Siddhas at the banks of the Ganges and strummed a Sitar, then crossed the Mississippi to Memphis with his guitar. There was not a sight he had not seen, nor a place he had not been.
He was a Wizard, a Seer, both Mage and the Sage. He was an innocent child, and as old as time, a conundrum, paradox and rhyme. The soft, mountain stream, the sun on your face. He understood the rage of righteous might and black bayou’s in the dark heart of night. A gift of Grace and not of this time or this place.
When he left, I was a better man for him finding me when I had lost my way, pray one day he finds you too. The Magical Music Man, he’ll see right through you and set you straight on the path that is meant to be. No hiding, no defence or false pretence.
It’s no surprise he gave no name, without sin, without blame, the Magical Music Man? An Angel in disguise. A guiding Light through life’s dark night, illuminating God in you and God in me…
I have a deep love for Yeats sublime poem “Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven” from his collection “The Wind Among The Reeds” (published in 1988) as well as for the Pre-Raphaelites and these lush paintings by Edward Robert Hughes are just perfect…
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
I adore this line from “The Young Man’s Song” from “Responsibilities” (1916), which is your favourite Yeats?
“For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.”
I whispered, “I am too young,”
And then, “I am old enough”;
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
“Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair,”
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
Oh, love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away,
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
The Lady beckons to you beguilingly. Obsidian eyes, flashing danger and delight. Her smile, enigmatic, promising delicious secrets to be shared. Tresses of sun kissed silken strands of gold, a river flowing down her innocent back. Mixed messages carried on an air of danger. Fascinated, intrigued you draw near.
She is an enigmatic paradox, formed from Light and Dark. Blessed by sunlight’s golden rays and kissed by the midnight hour, black magick and the devil’s claw. Heavenly Angel, hellfire Demon.Was her Soul star born in the fiery firmaments above or forged somewhere north of Midnight?
Her essence envelopes you. She is not physically there, yet she is everywhere. On your skin, in your mind, you feel her Presence. Bringing both delights and torments. You love her. You hate her. Want her and need her, repulsed at meeting the devil within fearing possession you push her away.
Is she a Succubus, or a figment of fragmented wanton lust rampaging through the caverns of your ravaged mind? Or is she a witch, adept at the Dark Arts and enchantment has placed you under her eternal spell? ✨
If I were to write the Colours of you, every single facet, every beautiful hue, my beautiful child woman Jennifer what would your palette be?
The lush green of the trees in a forest of old and the soft silver breeze rustling their leaves.A secret path through ancient woodlands, liminal rites to numinous sights heralded by the Song of the Nightingale, Supernatural Sight of the Crow, Owl’s wise words and peaceful flutterings from the gentle touch of soft Dove’s wings, feathers of black, brown, white and grey, birds singing and calling from night to day. The gossamer whisper of the Fey at play, dancing in a circle of iridescent light of violet, pink, chartreuse, champagne, larimar blue, citrine and cyan, then resting upon rich mossy banks and verdigris lichen covering bark. Drinking nectar from buttercup yellow and evening dew whilst Bluebells ring the song of the rich earth.
Will these colours do, are they the magical colours of you? There is yet more depth I see, that you reveal to me…
Azure Aegean waters fringed by soft sea foam running upon silver speckled, white washed sands. Shimmering dashes of silver dancing in cobalt blue, fishes darting through coral caverns over opalescent sea shell pink. Starfish and sea horses at play. Whales cutting through density, singing ancient songs of the Keepers of the Deep followed by chromatic Dolphins dancing on sapphire seas.
Your softness is that of a bird on the wing, the honey bees and a butterfly kiss upon the sweet meadow flowers and fragile violets, delicate snowdrops and wild roses. Yet, within you, the strength born of the ages, forged in the foundries of life. Black Granite and White Marble, crystal caverns of selenite, amethyst, jade, jasper, moldavite and Precious stones of many hues, ruby red, Sapphires blue, emeralds green, topaz, opals and pearls, dazzling diamond light.Your fire and your passion a lava flow, burning fires and embers glow.
All these colours of the earth, the sea and fire reside within you, yet most of all you are My Aniela, My Angel, my heaven sent child.
Sunset rays of red and gold, purple and orange, colours so regal, colours so bold. Moonlight on a star stud blanket of darkest night. Sunrise, proud and resplendent dancing in the morning sky. Clear raindrops kissed by light, rainbows dancing in delight.
My beautiful child woman with Alabaster skin, knowing burnt umber eyes and flowing locks of rich nutmeg hair and a secret smile of a wild rose. The colours of you, are all the colours in this beautiful world, for you, my daughter are all the colours of the world to me. Love Beyond Infinity, your Mother.