Mentor And Muse II – The Artist

A piece from August 2012.

The Eclectic Poet

Paint me with all the colours of your love

Paint me with your lips, fingers and tongue

Trace every line, every curve, upon my body

Trace my skin with your perfect artistry

Stroke so gently with ink-stained hands

Stroke words beseeching and commands

Paint your words of love all over me

Paint our union in tactile poetry

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Wake Love…

I woke cocooned in perfect warmth and sleepy contentment this morning
Swimming up through the soft, wispy layers of consciousness. Heart smiling
Jealous Winter rattled the windows, chilled the air by the window beside our bed
She couldn’t break the spell, or disturb the sleeping mirage in my arms
This morning, I’m alone but for the dark haired myth who shares my pillow
A sweet faerytale; for the moment as warm, real and perfect as any knight
Shining armour strewn upon my floor, a testament to who won the night before
In the moments when tenderness is the mistress holding my desire in check
I watch him sleep. Traces of the little boy he was, play across his face with his breathing
Lashes cast a shadow on his cheek, a stray lock of hair falls over the wing of his brow
He stirs with a soft sigh and in sleep, takes my hand where it rests on his hip
So beautiful, so vulnerable. I am filled with, overflowing… gentlest, most tender love
Most fierce desire to shield and protect and… desire… Love’s brilliant disguise.
White hot, breathless, aching… I can’t keep inside. Wake up Love… wake and love me

In The Eye Of The Beholder

Perceived perfection

In a perfectly contrived world
A fantasy of judicious construction
Beautifully conceived thoughts
Presented flawlessly
Tailor made to intrigue
And if you could ever know
The real me
The imperfect architect
Of these carefully chosen words
Would they still be beautiful in your eyes

Would I?



I seem to be suffering from a profound case of inertia of the pen
The serene blue of September skies, the new crispness and wood smoke in the air and the first hint of autumn colour in the leaves of The Outaouais hills
All conspire to distract me from the pages of my journal
So much beauty, so much gratitude for another season granted

And you
Beautiful you…

I seem to be at a loss to capture the fullness of my heart
The measureless brown of your teakwood eyes, the hint of bourbon and wheat fields in your voice and the lingering hint of Indiana sunshine on your skin
What a beautiful distraction from the ordinary routine
So much love, so much gratitude for these precious moments together

With you
Beautiful you…

Summer Dawn

Sunlit motes dance in the air
Hot and hazy even in this early hour
I wake to the gentle touch of your fingers
Tracing the retreating wave of shadow
From my cheeks, my collar bones
Your breath causing a sweet frisson
My body rises to your fevered kisses
And despite Augusts’s heavy heat
My skin shivers… delicious
Under the tip of your tongue
Mirroring your touch
Sweet lightning flashes leave me breathless
Want like storm clouds gathers, quickens me to receive
The release of stormy desire that I see
In your tempest stone eyes
Deluge, release, benediction
The whisper of my name on your lips
Thunder in the beating of our hearts
Hurricane in your kiss
And I thirst no more…

Keeping It Eclectic ~ Other Creative Stuff I Do

“Wiggens” is back! Best-selling author Leslie McGuirk and co-author and restaurateur Alex von Bidder, have written him an all new adventure in his first fully interactive iPad ebook.
I recently had the opportunity to work with the wonderfully talented graphic designer, Cady Elizabeth and her colleagues, at Skyreader Media. I was honoured to be asked to narrate their ebook application for ipad that is a co-production in collaboration with the San Diego Zoo.

Skyreader Media Inc.

Wiggens is back in an all new adventure set at the San Diego Zoo in his first fully interactive iPad ebook app!

Having earned praise from the likes of Martha Stewart and Tom Brokaw with their first collaboration, Wiggens Learns His Manners At the Four Seasons Restaurant, best-selling author Leslie McGuirk and co-author and restaurateur Alex von Bidder have brought back Wiggens for an all new adventure in his first fully interactive iPad ebook, Wiggens Makes Friends at the San Diego Zoo, produced by Skyreader Media.

Wiggens, a lovable Chocolate Labrador puppy, takes children behind the scenes to places rarely seen by visitors, and engages them in performing tasks such as feeding and treating animals, inspiring respect for our animal friends.

Building off of the immersive experiences Skyreader Media created in their #1 iPad eBook app Draw Along Pip (also authored by McGuirk), Wiggens Makes Friends at the San…

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Cináed I

(The King of the Picts, the King of the Celts and Me)

When I was young, wild and free
A beautiful man came to me…

Tall and dark, eyes like the sky
Ask me nary a question, Ill tell nary a lie
He beckoned, I followed
Never thought to ask why

When I was young, wild and free
A beautiful man came to me…

He said, “Lovely One, please tell me your name”
I tried to discern, find the rules to his game
Then he stole a sweet kiss
And he touched off a flame

When I was young, wild and free
A beautiful man came to me…

We ran with the wind, the thunder, the night
With my wilde, black-haired lover, all was all right
Never minded the shackles
That bound my heart tight

When I was young, wild and free
A beautiful man came to me…

Didn’t care for his titles, his castles, or wealth
He won kingdoms by force, my heart with stealth
A touch of his hand,
And I found my true self

When I was young, wild and free
A beautiful man came to me…

As I tell you this now, I am old, Cináed too
But his eyes still reflect Gwendraeth blue
It’s been said Time’s not a friend
I tell you, that is untrue

When I was young, wild and free
A beautiful man came to me…

Friends of your youth, friends always be
One look in his eyes and still I see
Our wild, beautiful selves, together but free
The King of the Picts, the King of the Celts…
Cináed and Me!

(c) KeiB, 11 December 2010

~ English to Welsh translation ~


(Y Brenin y Pictiaid, Brenin y Celtiaid a Fi)

Pan oeddwn yn ifanc, gwyllt ac am ddim
Mae dyn hyfryd ddaeth i fi…

Tal a thywyll, llygaid fel yr awyr
Gofyn i mi nary gwestiwn, Salwch dweud celwydd yn nary
beckoned ef, yr wyf yn dilyn
Peidiwch byth â meddwl i ofyn pam

Pan oeddwn yn ifanc, gwyllt ac am ddim
Mae dyn hyfryd ddaeth i fi…

Dywedodd, “Beautiful One, ddweud wrthyf eich enw”
Ceisiais i ddirnad, dod o hyd i’r rheolau i ei gêm
Yna efe a dwyn melys cusan
Ac efe a gyffyrddodd oddi ar fflam

Pan oeddwn yn ifanc, gwyllt ac am ddim
Mae dyn hyfryd ddaeth i fi…

Rydym yn rhedeg gyda’r gwynt, y taranau, y nos
Gyda fy, cariad Wilde-gwallt du, pob oedd popeth yn iawn
Peidiwch byth â meddwl y shackles
Dyna fy nghalon rhwymo dynn

Pan oeddwn yn ifanc, gwyllt ac am ddim
Mae dyn hyfryd ddaeth i fi…

Peidiwch byth â gofalu am ei teitlau, ei gestyll, neu gyfoeth
Enillodd teyrnasoedd drwy rym, fy nghalon gyda stealth
Mae cyffwrdd ei law,
Ac yr wyf yn gweld fy hun yn wir

Pan oeddwn yn ifanc, gwyllt ac am ddim
Mae dyn hyfryd ddaeth i fi…

Wrth i mi ddweud wrthych hyn yn awr, yr wyf yn hen, rhy Cínaed
Ond mae ei lygaid yn dal Gwendraeth glas
Mae wedi bod yn dweud nad Mae amser ffrind
Yr wyf yn dweud wrthych, fod yn anghywir

Pan oeddwn yn ifanc, gwyllt ac am ddim
Mae dyn hyfryd ddaeth i fi…

Cyfeillion eich ieuenctid, ffrindiau bob amser yn
Fi jyst yn edrych yn ei lygaid, ac yn dal yr wyf yn gweld
Mae ein gwyllt, hunain hardd, at ei gilydd ond rhad ac am ddim
Y Brenin y Pictiaid, Brenin y Celtiaid …Cínaed a Fi!

~ think of it as a rollicking tune to be accompanied by hard cider, clapping hands and the bodhrán ~

Every Picture Tells A Story V

All she wanted was to get the hell out of Dodge. She was pretty sure she could call herself independent but had no way to be sure, she’d never been alone. Not really. She’d always had fantasies about being out on the open road. Came close in the days when she could borrow her cousin’s Kawasaki and race the twisting road up and down Blomidon mountain. She ached for something different, something new, something that would make her feel alive again. She wrote stories about taking off, laughed with her best girlfriend about how they should do a “Thelma & Louise”, took pictures of Camaros and Mustangs at the vintage car show that happened every Tuesday in her neighbourhood. Dreams… she’d passed on getting her driver’s license, had a baby that day instead, never bothered to reschedule. She could imagine how it would be to have someone pull up at work one day. First thing. How she’d be surprised and mildly freaked and wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. Hearing the words “Get in. I don’t know where we’re going, close your eyes and point”. They’d be like that video, child of the wild blue yonder. Top down, flying along miles of highway to anywhere And the destination just wouldn’t matter anyway… as long as they were going together.

The path not taken…