The Willow

The Willow
A cold shadow standing firm. A sad skeleton on the surface, but holding a promise of hope, deep within. Swaying in the icy wind, embracing the torment of the storm and season all to bring forth life and beauty. Unashamed of its own lack of color, praise, and admiration, it dutifully stands fast fulfilling its purpose. A quiet passionate promise.
- Shy Willow

Monday, May 30, 2016

Another Fishing Metaphor

You feel the line being lightly toyed with, obviously this fish has been drawn from the water before and is familiar with the feel of a steel hook. The bait begins to travel a small distance and you let out line to accommodate the prey you are after. You watch as the line pulls and stalls, darts again then rests, and you reflect on how this, your fishing has changed over the years. In times past you were a professional circuit fish thrashing champion, and now here you are rescuing this finicky fish from a mud pool where it and several others has no chance of survival. Days of netting and fishing have meant relocating fish back to the larger body of water that these fish belonged to prior to the accident which severed this smaller pool of water.

Suddenly your prey feels a surge of confidence and decides to bolt away having hopefully taken the bait firmer. A slight pull and you set the hook, knowing too much of a pull could rip the hook clear of the experienced mouth of the fish, yet not setting the hook is a risks your fish could decide to spit it out finding it too risky to keep hold of. 

Waiting for a fight to erupt from the line, disappoint sinks in when the line goes limp of life. Exhaling the frustration and concern all at once you begin to bring in line. A tightness takes you by surprise and you wonder if in the muddy gumbo you've picked up a log or rock, but after a bit of pressure and the drag starting to click against you it becomes clear that this fish is not like others you've seen or fought. 

Again you are faced with decisions. Do you bring this fish in fast and hard? Do you bring it in slow and gentle? Which one will tire the fish? Which way will reduce the stress and get it to the larger body of water safest? 

Each fishing trip yields something a bit different. Each relationship we enter does the same, going into it with preconceived notions can leave you disappointed or ill prepared for situations that arise. 

Often times titles skew the real meaning of our relationships and focusing on definition rather than value takes away from the enrichment and life giving experience a challenge may provide.

Obviously one must be in control and responsible when they see that they have the upper hand in a situation that requires they guide and direct another. However equally we must accept in life that these situations arise. 

-Shy Willow

Friday, May 27, 2016

Dark Room

Welcome to the darkest room of my castle; the room that until now no one else knew about. I quake knowing that now you will know the dark bloom of energy that swirls in clouds of blackness upon the dark canvas in which you gaze. I ache in bitter frustration as my being is sucked into the darkness which balances the passion that freely lights my day.

Welcome to the place inside of this suffocating darkness which cools the blood and slows the heart. Breath is drawn slowly and thoughts focus purposefully on the singular painful necessity. My mind swirls in the ache and bitterness of pain I've caused; bathing in the self punishment of disappointment and mourning. 

Colder and deeper I go, why are you here with me. No one must see this pain. On the verge of plunging into a pool of black and boiling tar, on the verge of letting go, there is a pull.

So many times before I've felt around this dark room with the tips of my fingers, searching for the freedom of the door. Why are you here, you will get hurt. 

Yet, before I know it, it would seem we are both in a the cold corridor outside of the dark room's heavy door. Slowly I warm and feel my body desire breath again. I've not been in that room for some time, nor do I wish to go in again. Perhaps you were there because you needed to see the peace you bring.

-Shy Willow



Friday, May 20, 2016

Part 4... Her Name

For those who are new, this post is a 4th part in a series called Her Name you can scroll down or check through the archives to locate the previous segments if you wish to read them first to get a better feel for the character of the brief plot.

For those returning, thanks for stopping by, I hope you enjoy your sensual break in my little corner of the web.

I hope you enjoy this installment of Her Name.

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After my own heat was nearly unbearable He sat back leaving nothing between us but tension and a dark expression. After a deep  and well controlled breath his attention was back toward Lacy as they picked up conversation about an event that was coming up in the near future that both seemed to have made plans to attend. 

Roger's face had the same dark expression that He had just washed away. Looking down at Doll you could see a beautiful charge build between the two of them. Doll's body was as still as it had been the entire night as their eyes were completely locked in a silent conversation. A single expression crossed Rogers dark and concentrating eyes and with that it would have seemed that his spell was absolutely broken except for Dolls immediate response. Within moments Doll was once again her happy playful self cooing under Rogers protective gaze, but now she was doing so setting herself to work releasing him from his pants. 

Looking away feeling the need to give them their own privacy I realized I was being introduced into an entirely different level of comfort and social trust for Him. Although the heat has not at all left my body now I have a bit more processing to do and it is admittingly a challenge given the state He put me in. 

Lacy and Hund were little different in their display. Lacy held Hund's leash quite tight in one hand as she prodded him with her heels and got in a lash here and there with the strap he carefully placed for her. Interestingly the expression on his face was much more at ease now then it was when I tried to introduce myself to him. The level of trust in the room escalates more and more as I see it and while the scenery itself is still rather new to me in some ways, the beauty is not lost. 

Hund is kept on his knees for the entire gathering. Though he is allowed to kiss Lacy's feet for sometime he remains on his knees. 

Doll is loved and petted and remains on Rogers leg until long sometime after she has pleased Roger. Doll's work was much less silent than Hund, though it would seem purposely so for Roger's pleasure as he seemed to build upon her audio serenade. 

He engages in conversation between both back and forth for awhile longer all the while kneading my skin and rubbing this thumb hard into different muscles in my thigh and back. The sensation gives a pleasant mixture of release and also a slight burn. I sit still and silent soaking in every touch and barely audible guttural rumble that vibrates in his throat. Each sensation building the most delicious tension between us.

Until in turn both couples take leave and thank Him for the invitation. Hund quickly changes and packs up, but this time Lacy waits for him. After walking both couples to the door He sits next to me again and searches my face. 

"That was an experiment wasn't it". His voice is deep and rumbles tickling the same places that are already throbbing from his assault. 

"I gather that was a warm up and trial run?" my words come more coolly than the fire that is raging within.

A small chuckle escapes His throat, "you don't miss much".

"I never really did like exams." I feign dissatisfaction.

"That is a shame, I suspect you're really going to dislike this next section then."

Within a moment I was pinned to the couch with His very warm body holding me securely. Part of me knew that even if I wanted to struggle it would be a wasted effort. However, I was mush in His hands, I didn't want to struggle.  

The next move still truly baffles, but in a stunning display He rolled us off the couch and in the time that it took to completely roll and land He had most of my dress displaced, a new position, and my body pinned once again, but now to the floor. 

"I believe you and I have some unfinished business to discuss." 

"Hmmm, does that mean I get out of the exam?"

"Hardly."

"Interesting." I huff. The weight of His body pressing me into the unrelenting floor is a sensation beyond glorious. It is a challenge to have much for emotional expression when the charge is so very strong.

A surge washed us both in a beautiful dance of pushing and pulling. Not a single word crossed our lips, no giggle, nothing but those sounds that are made to communicate that only the physical body need hear and understand. Those sparks that He massaged into my muscles were enough to feed into our first raging fire, a fire that raged until the early morning hours.

Spent and finally cooling He broke our silence, "come sweet Sapphire we need sleep". 

Tucking us into a soft cocoon and cradled in His arms I felt His breathing ease. "Good night Tim." 

He sighed lazily, "Good night sweet Becky." 


- Shy Willow

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Letting Go

Letting Go
by: Shy Willow

Into my eyes and see the pain yet neither flinch nor recoil. 
Stories bathed in irony which dance in both rays of warmth and also the frosty bite of reality. 
Too many times the door left open gets closed behind suffocating and trapping. 
How often the energy turns from fire that feeds to one which takes life away.

Into the fire, the flames which grow and consume.
Lives bathed in irony which dance in the energy we've learned to trust and lean on.
No longer do we thrive in the boxes which we build to hide, no longer must we have doors.
An ache all to familiar we felt, an ache we tried to fill, is now free to burn.

Into my life and see the beauty which I see in every life.
Expressions of art bathed in the energy of passion, released from the purest of places.
Enticed, pursued, romanced then captured and wed with the breath of freedom.  
Into our eyes the energy, better understood, despite the pain, brings comfort and ease.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Chaotic Peace

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A moments rest in the eye of the tornado, the storm we relish. We’ve sent our heart out, something not uncommon. Though we rarely give our self fully to another we give our heart with the hope that it will heal. On occasion it comes back, radiating. All too often the hurt we try to save is so deep that the love we share is lost, turned black, and used as fuel to feed an ugly monster.

We sit, taking a deep breath, filling our lungs for the first time in months. The pain is there though shifted to a new place. There is a new joy there giving us pause, is this our new reality?

Our webs are wide and complex while the inner strand is so well guarded and simple we are truly misunderstood.

We guard our pain as carefully as we guard our peace and love.


That breath we take in the mountains, when the buzzing is gone, that breath we take that washes away the pain, the breath that reaches every cell and screams freedom amongst our sweet chaos. 

-Shy Willow

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Sex is Art

Artistic expression has found its way into every corner of the social experience. People have found food, literature, painting, street art, sculpting, music, body art, and aquamarine exhibits, social expressions of art in which to be enjoyed, shared, and explored. Although not everyone appreciates each type of art, and not each type of art seems to move every individual, the theme remains the same; people enjoy sharing the growth, wonder and experience together.

Some may choose to embrace sex itself as an art. Others may of course embrace sex in any number of ways, and beings as it is a language all its own, there really is not a set “right” way. However, I would like to suggest that we open our minds to the language of sex as an art. A social language that all experience differently, some embrace passionately, some immerse themselves in as a means of relating to the world, while others utilize the language as a way of release and perhaps momentary freedom. We will not always appreciate nor understand why or how those around us grasp the language and make it their own, but we do know that in a small way it is something we share.

I have had the chance to meet individuals who cannot allow themselves to feel passion in sex. The physical is just that. On the other end of the spectrum I’ve been privileged to meet those who’ve seen the experience as an artistic expression of energy which allows them something of a spiritual connection.

Differing lifestyles have differing views of the topic, but it seems no matter which side of the fence you call home you find individuals who have closed their minds to embracing the larger picture. Religion, no religion, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, or whatever it is you fancy labeling yourself, try remember that the labels in art are only a way of helping us find the kind of art we enjoy the most. The labels are not there to tell you which piece of art you will like, won’t like, should emulate, should not emulate, or should try to build your grilled cheese sandwich to represent.

Sex is art. To you it may be that sex is soccer, quilting, naptime, coffee, or gardening; no matter how you see it, or better yet, ultimately feel it, what matters is that we remember to appreciate spices, varieties, and many colors.
-Shy Willow


(Shy Willow is not suggesting unsafe sex practices. As always safe sex practices and the consultation of your physician to ensure you are healthy enough for sexual activity. Shy Willow writes for a mature audience.)