BlackWidow's blog: "Heart"

Me (in a tizzy) : God, can I ask you something?

GOD: Sure. Me: Promise you won't get mad?

GOD: I promise.

Me (frustrated): Why did you let so much stuff happen to me today?

GOD: What do you mean?

Me: Well I woke up late.

GOD: Yes

Me: My car took forever to start.

GOD: Okay....

Me: (growling): At lunch, they made my sandwich wrong and I had to wait.

GOD: Hmmmm.

Me: On the way home, my phone went dead, just as I picked up a call.

GOD: All right.

Me: (loudly): And to top it all off, when I got home, I just wanted to soak my feet in my foot massager and relax, but it wouldn't work. Nothing went right today! Why did you do that?

GOD: Well let me see..... the death angel was at your bed this morning and I had to send one of the other angels to battle him for your life. I let you sleep through that.

Me: (humbled): Oh...

GOD: I didn't let your car start because there was a drunk driver on your route that might have hit you if you were on the road.

Me: (ashamed): ............

GOD: The first person who made your sandwich today was sick and I didn't want you to catch what they have, I knew you couldn't afford to miss work.

Me: (embarrassed): Oh.....

GOD: Your phone went dead because the person that was calling was going to give a false witness about what you said on that call, I didn't even let you talk to them so you would be covered.

Me: (softly): I see, God.

GOD: Oh and that foot massager, it had a short that was going to throw out all of the power in your house tonight. I didn't think you wanted to be in the dark.

Me: I'm sorry God.

GOD: Don't be sorry, just learn to trust me.........in all things, the good and the bad.

Me: I WILL trust you God.

GOD: And don't doubt that my plan for your day is always better than your plan.

Me: I won't God. And let me just tell you God, thank you for everything today.

GOD: You're welcome child. It was just another day being your God and I love looking after my children.♥

" I see myself holding you close to me, Squeezing your body tight. But for all I see as I daydream- I know I'll get tenfold tonight. Running my palms across your breast, As you tremble and bite your lip. Feeling your hands upon my chest, The softness of each fingertip. Tasting your neck so sweet, so soft, And slowly lowering my kiss. Over pert nipples, across your navel, And finally into pure bliss. Looking upon your face from below- As you tilt back your head. Feeling your fountains begin to flow- As you ease back on the bed. Your "innocent little devil" look- Crying insatiably with the sensation. Lip to lip lapping up every drip- From the well of your creation. The way you pull me up by the hair- To the heat of your mouth, on fire. No other thoughts, no other cares, Just the quenching of mad desire. Riding the tide of passion, Pushing my love into you. On the waves of your emotion- In slow motion, so sweet and true. Pulse pounding in resounding rapture, Taken to the hilt, then just past. Rhythm growing, faces glowing, The climax coming fast. That heated, illicit look- Of ecstasy across your eyes. The culmination nearing- Within your undulating thighs. Echoing throughout the heavens- On overindulgent cries. The sultry look upon your face- In reaching that gyrating gush. The way you bite my fingers- When I try to make you hush. Your arching back, your fingernails, Your perfume mixed with sweat. The way you keep rubbing against me- With your insides already so wet. The way when I'm beat dead and ready- To fall face first to the floor, You put your sweet lips to my ear- And whisper, "I want more! "

I like this one very much.TY for sharing Frederick xoxo Love by Gibran Then said Almitra, "Speak to us of Love." And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said: When love beckons to you follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself. He threshes you to make you naked. He sifts you to free you from your husks. He grinds you to whiteness. He kneads you until you are pliant; And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast. All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart. But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God." And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; To return home at eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

One day, a young man stopped in the middle of a big town, and started telling people who passed by, that he has the most beautiful heart. Not after long, around him gathered many people, and they were all admiring his perfect heart. You could see in his heart not a mark, not a scratch. Yes, everybody agreed it was the most beautiful heart they’ve ever seen! The young man was very proud of his heart and he kept praising about it. At one moment..an old man approached. With a low voice, as for himself…he wispered. : « -And still, the perfection of his heart doesn’t compare to the beauty of my heart! » All the people around looked at the old man’s heart. Even the young man was curious to see what heart dares to compare with his. It was a strong heart, it’s beatings could been heared from far away. But it was full of scars, it had places where some pieces of it were replaced with other pices…which didn’t really fit; the lines between the pieces were sinous and even craggy. Even more...from place to place pieces were missing…the wounds were still bleeding. Amazed, people were wispering: “How can he say he has a beautiful heart?” After analasing the heart, the young man said laughing: -You must be joking, old man. Look at my heart, it’s perfect! While yours it’s one big wound, tears and pain. -Yes, said the old man, your heart it’s perfect. But I would never change mine with yours. You see, each scar represents one person to whom I gave my love. I break one piece of my heart and I give it to the person next to me, who sometimes gives me back a piece of his heart, which may fill the empty place from my heart. Because the pieces aren’t measured perfectly, some places remain unfilled, and I cherish these places because they remember me of the person I’ve loved. Sometimes I gave away pieces of my heart to people who never gave anything in return, not even a small piece of their heart. Those are the open wounds from my heart, the black holes. Loving someone every time implies a risk. And although these wounds still bleed...they remind me of the people I used to love; and maybe, who knows, one day they might return and fill the empty places from my heart with their love. Now you understand my dear, which is the real beauty of the heart? said the old man smiling. The young man remained quiet, with tears down his face.He approached the old man, ripped a piece of his perfect heart and gave it , with trembling hands, to the old man. The old man took the piece and put it in his heart. Then took a piece of his wounded heart and gave it to the young man.It fit but not perfectly. The young man looked at his heart which was no longer perfect, but much more beautiful than it was ever before, because now, he had in his heart, the love from the old man’s heart. The two of them hugged, smiled to each other, and left together. How sad can you be to walk in this life with a perfect heart in your chest? A perfect heart, but with no beauty in it... How is your heart? Can you share it with others?