In his cabin by the lake, Ronny felt safe from his life at home. This was nothing more than one of his twice a month business trips.
Sarah slipped the blindfold over his eyes and began to kiss him as she pushed him onto the bed. Ronny let out an exaggerated moan.
“I didn’t say you could [...]
Posted on August 27th, 2007 by drevon03
Filed under: Prose | No Comments »
They put a hospital bed for him in the living room. After weeks of staring at the white walls of the hospital, it was nice to be home. After a flip from a motorcycle and three surgeries, the full body cast seemed like a breeze. His neck was in a brace, but his face remained [...]
Posted on August 27th, 2007 by drevon03
Filed under: Prose | No Comments »
Friar Fryer is late for work To cook the food the brothers eat. Wash the dishes, Chop the meat, Boil the broth, And kitchen keep. Friar Fryer dreams of dusk, As he kneads the yeasty dough. Night is dark, As his work. Rise and fall, Much to go. Friar Fryer’s nighttime work Is far from hearth and Christendom. In the village Deep with sleep Friar walks. Fryer roams. Street by street he seeks with sport, In alleys dark and crossroad squares, Something sweet. A savory treat, A tasty morsel, Fresh and rare. In dark corner lure her there Friar Fryer penance pay. Take her home Clean her up. Make it quick To make it stay. Friar Fryer, busy boy, Boils the chops in dill and wine. Quickly. Quickly. Stirs the soup, Adds more salt, And pickle brine. Friar Fryer cooks his kill Slow in soupy, earthy stew. Stoke the fire. Cook it long. Sin in tough To cook to chew. Friar Friar smiles with glee As brothers sip and slop and eat. Another meal. Stomachs full. Friar Fryer’s Works complete.
Posted on August 13th, 2007 by drevon03
Filed under: Poetry | No Comments »