I am not sure how, but I completely lost track of my days and failed to write my blog post yesterday! Not to make excuses, but my life is a bit out of whack these days. Although the school year is winding up, my responsibilities at work are only increasing (happily). I’m preparing to move across the country within the next month. I’m desperately searching for a second job in order to pay for said move. And I’m planning to start over in a state I’ve never even visited… it’s a lot!

At work, I’m currently assisting our fourth-grade teachers with their Poetry unit that began today. I LOVE poetry and just learned that I get an incredible thrill from teaching it. So, since I failed to prepare a proper post (my sincerest apologies), I will post a poem that I wrote many, many moons ago. I remember listening to this man beautifully and effortlessly strumming a Spanish guitar. I couldn’t wait to get home to write about the way it made me feel. I recently reread this poem, and was quite disturbed by the adult nature, considering how young I was when I wrote it.
So, now I unleash to you my oddly erotic teenage feelings about the Spanish Guitar.

Next week, I will do better!

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Calloused Hands

It Feels so Familiar
Every Ridge and each Ripple
Strumming an instrument
That I’ve Mastered

Bullishly releasing
reluctant Sighs, Moans
Twitches and Thrusts
With each Fret I Finger
And String I Pluck

Slowly the melody builds
Controlling the Delicate Rhythm
Slowly...
Slowly, with Light Flicks
Teasing.... Slowly

Then Deeper
With Steady, Deliberate Movements
Allowing my Fingers to Lazily
Move from String to String
Already Sensing how Anxious the song is to end

That is why it started... to End

But Tonight, I play Slowly
Feeling the Anticipation Beneath my Fingers
The instrument Pushing me for More
The melody Builds
It’s Girth Swelling
All at My Volition

I feel the Chorus
I feel the Bridge
I feel the Riffs
Surrendering my Control
Losing myself in the song

I become one with the instrument
No longer Creating the Waves
I allow myself to Ride the Notes we
Make Together

Grinding into one another
Sensing that the song’s End is near ~
Intensely, the song Climaxes
Taking both instrument and myself with it

All three are now One
Flowing and Breathing in unison
With the Coordination and Intensity
of a Symphony

We Fall into the Descension
The song Floods over us
And Sighs Deeply with Satisfaction

It has ended.

And with tired fingers I start the slow melody
again

 ... and again