HOT AND COLD - THE POETRY OF A.H. SCOTT

No longer do I scream, for you have taken my voice

Holding onto this floor, as if it were my safety blanket

Impression of your fist against my skin has formed several islands of pain

Black and blue and brown are some

Yet, those that have started healing are turning a yellowish hue

I'll be the perfect wife

I'll be the perfect cook

I'll be the perfect f**k for you

Just don't hit me again

I'll be anything but your punching bag anymore

My voice has become a smothered whisper as I promise you on this floor

As your fist unclenched, you actually rub my back and walk away

Cold compress I press to my face.....

***************

Love and hate. Laughter and tears. Joy and fears. When a relationship unravels, silence takes the place of self-esteem. Reclaim your voice in A.H. Scott’s “Hot and Cold (Find Your Voice)”. 

“The Poetry Of A.H. Scott: Hot and Cold (Find Your Voice)”. 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/575894

THE ARTIST WITHIN - A QUOTE BY A.H. SCOTT

"An artist without limits is an artist that lives beyond the days spent upon this mortal earth" - A.H. Scott 1/27/16

SOMETHING DELICIOUS AWAITS - "THREE SCOOPS OF DECADENCE" BY A.H. SCOTT

Lust by Land! Seduction by Sea! Arousal by Air!

What kind of trip could this possibly be?

The fact is; it doesn't matter how you get there, but that you arrive with glee. 

It’s “Three Scoops of Decadence” by A.H. Scott.

Three tales to tickle your fancy:

1. Seduction By Sea: No Monkeying Around
2. Arousal By Air: Destination: Bump N’ Grind
3. Lust By Land: Juicy Jackpot

A.H. Scott delivers a treat for your senses.

Get to know lovely Laura and her friends. With this luscious lady; adult adventures never end.

....something delicious awaits....

Scoop up this delight from Smashwords & Amazon Worldwide.

SYNC GO DI MAYO - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

Sync Go Di Mayo 


Fifth of May is on it’s way

See the lovely frock I bought just for this day

Quintet upon threads that cling along my bare back

They dangle and jangle like bones so old

What you’ve got planned for us in nights in the future will be so bold

Good luck for this coming year of Sin is where Mayo is all at…

- A.H. Scott

4/13/13

YES THE MOMENT IS THIS DAY - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

Yes The Moment Is This Day

There was no yesterday 

There was no tomorrow

There is yes in the moment 

The moment is now 

Now is the moment that takes the breath from my lungs

Howl of hooray for another new day 

Exhalation of the sun about to set down 

Shoes kicked off and a few inches shorter in stocking feet 

Wiggling my toes as I tap them against the cold floor 

Scribbling some words in a memo of light yellow color

Laughing, as I recall the way I met a cool fella 

Shy, as I am, I thought he wouldn't notice me

But, he did, as we bumped into each other at the copier machine

How cliche a moment, I thought to myself 

He smiled and introduced himself 

I wasn't looking for anyone new 

But, there he was in full view

Not of my eyes alone

My mind opened to this fella who wasn't the type I thought would look at me

But, he did

But, he did 

Docile isn't his groove

Yet, this fella is oh so smooth 

Moments can be invisible to one who doesn't want to see 

Moment of a new friendship happened to me

Moments are what you make of them 

Mole hill or mountain can be the varying degrees

Mellow smiles abound from our lips 

Blind yesterday 

Now, I can see

- A.H. Scott 

4/25/12

AGAINST NATURE - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

Against Nature

   

Against nature they all say  

You can't love the one you're with today

 Oh, my GOD! You must be GAY!!  

Against nature they all say

The color of his skin is too dark for him to play with 

Oh, my GOD! He's not like the 'REAL AMERICANS'  

Against nature they all say

For they use the Holy Bible to bash the rest of us in the heads night and day 

Against nature they all say 

 But, then again, they are hypocrites - so, our hearts shall turn them away 

They are the ones who are against nature today 

 Against the nature that the heavens allows us all to be a brotherhood of mankind   

And, that's the nature I love and respect today  

- A.H. Scott  

9/22/11 

THE KEY - A QUOTE BY A.H. SCOTT

"Kindness holds a currency which unseals doors unseen" - A.H. Scott 11/21/12

FIRELIGHT EVERBRIGHT - A QUOTE BY A.H. SCOTT

"A fool who dances with fascism balances on a tightrope of fallacy. Melody of the cheering masses are the intoxicant that allows the fool to believe all which he thinks and does is a symphony of approval; when in fact, many in that crowd are amused by the circus act that arrived before their eyes. History is a flame which never is truly doused, as it can burn that tightrope the fool balances precariously upon. Empires fall as do fools" - A.H.Scott 7/8/18

EXPLORE THE ENTIRE ESSAY BY A.H. SCOTT - "THE TORCH" 

http://tonywardstudio.com/blog/a-h-scott-the-torch/

STEP UP FROM TIMIDITY - "TOM FORD STOLE MY TRAINING WHEELS" BY A.H. SCOTT

Sensible mules, sandals and flats had always been my uniform in the feminine army. For me, the highest heel I’d ever been bold enough to wear was a pair of black pumps with two inch heels. 

(“In order to keep anything cultural, logical, or ideological, you have to reinvent the reality of it.” - Ani DiFranco)

But, then came Tom. 

Every time I wear a pair of high heels, the feel of wiggling hips begins. Then as I walk, the jiggle of my own personal suspension system. Whoa! To think a complex pair of shoes can be a workout all in themselves.

Planting my feet into Tom’s stilettos with those heels dipped in gold, is like tossing away the training wheels off a Schwinn bike.

Ladies, if you can remember your first Schwinn bike. You know, the one with the pink and blue streamers that kissed the wind when a cool breeze blew past you along a lazy street. The faster you could pedal, the more those pink and blue streamers would weave in an out of one another.

Well, as you grow up, items that may seem the most reassuring and comfortable, suddenly isn’t the most preferred.

(“Creativity takes courage.” - Henri Matisse)

And, that’s how Tom Ford stole my training wheels.

Tom Ford’s design was like a Lance Armstrong Mountain Bike that was prepared for victory in the Tour de France.

The first time I saw one of his high heeled creations was in the window of a fancy store on 5th Avenue. I couldn’t believe how any woman could possibly be able to measure up to this designer’s vision.

Or, how any woman could ever be able to walk in shoes with those nosebleed heels.

(“Rule of art: Cant kills creativity!” - Camille Paglia)

There was nothing safe about these shoes. They were bold and without a net. And, now I would be without the net of training wheels to secure me from falling flat on my face from their height.

Almost looking like golden swords ready for a battle against boredom and conformity, those heels tempted me to purchase a pair.

When I did, my life changed.

I felt the true passage of womanhood when I took those shoes out of their box and laid them at my own feet.

(“Creativity is piercing the mundane to find the marvelous.” - Bill Moyers)

I’m surprised Tom Ford and the people at Gucci didn’t sell a tiny ladder to accompany those stilettos to every woman that bought a pair.

Whoops! I stood in those shoes and was a bit wobbly on my feet. I’d never known the height that I gained with such footwear.

Oh, I need my training wheels put back onto my feet. Maybe, a simple sandal or even a pair of Keds would be more appropriate for me. Yet, I was a woman in the shoes of a femme of fiery flourish, so I proceeded on the journey to jiggling a bit more.

At first, I had a bit of a problem walking in them. But, as I learned over a few hours, a bit of training my own body to handle something so seductively straining to my limbs; the results paid off wonderfully.

Those stilettos raised my entire body upward to another enticing level. That lift gave my calves, thighs and hips a certain sway to them. As for my buns, they kind of had this bouncy effect with every step forward. Well, as for my breasts, they floated a bit too, as I sauntered in my new shoes.

For the first time when I wore those shoes outside of my apartment, it was like partaking in a safari. And, I didn’t know if I were the prey or the hunter.

Even a good girl (like me), felt the power of those shoes.

Oh, Tom Ford, how dangerous you make a woman feel.

Taking step after step in my stilettos, those spiked heels jabbed a stake through the heart of feminine timidity……..

- END OF EXCERPT

Fashion is a statement and reflection of one’s independence from the restraints of what society deems worthy of acceptance.

A.H. Scott takes “Tom Ford Stole My Training Wheels” out of the box of boredom.

Ford is a thief to tedium. Once you become acquainted with him, you’ll never be the same ever again.

READ THE FREE EBOOK - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/104797

Once you climb up to maturity....you never go back....;)

EXHIBITION - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

Exhibition 

Show him just enough to catch his eye
Hide just enough to intrigue his imagination 
Expose everything to him in a kiss
Nylon falls onto the floor in his midst
Without fabric doesn't mean you are naked
It only shows him the packaging
Archaeologist of arousal will delve into depths of your conscience
Nothing is fake or untrue
When my mind and soul is on display for you
I'm your exhibit
Explore me....

- A.H. Scott
4/20/12

OF LOVERS, STRANGERS, AND HIDDEN DANGERS - "RACK EM" BY A.H. SCOTT

SINATRA’S SWOON & PAGLIACCI’S TEARS -

“RACK EM” BY A.H. SCOTT 

Frank Sinatra’s tempered tone and Nelson Riddle’s orchestration gave breath to this maudlin sliver of wax from 1958. Seven tiered diamonds next to Sinatra’s face of Pagliacci regret, gave any person lucky enough to hear these fourteen tracks a twisted heartstring. First movement began to fill this Vancouver bedroom with “Frank Sinatra Sings for Only the Lonely.”

Concept albums of varied artists were just another chic sprinkle of diamond dust atop the world of collectible’s dealer Arlington Cross. Trinket treasures being sold onto the Canadian and international markets nicely twinned to glistening gems of melodious magic.

Sounds of Sinatra’s soul wrapped around Arlington Cross, as a memory of Pao Tse-Ling’s lips reminded him of a sunny day in May. Even standing in his bedroom on a warm August night, she was a special being that brought a moment of bliss to Arlington.

Motioning around to face his guest, he was greeted with a wonderful sight, “Oh, my.”

Pao Tse-Ling’s emerald dress floated downward, as manicured fingernails unzipped it. Bra and panties of sea-foam hue, gave that silky skin the wrapping of a jade treasure.

Slowly making his way towards her, Cross’s hands waved against delicate shoulders, “Behold, a gem in my lair.”

“One which cannot wait for a humble jeweler’s stamp of certification,” Head stretched upward in a kiss to this wounded man, Tse-Ling whispered, “An inspection by you, would be more than suitable,” Using a bit more strength than usual, Pao pushed him into a seated position, “You just let me handle you, Mr. Cross.”

Thrill of making love to Ling, vanished in an instant of throbbing discomfort within bruised flesh, “But, Pao, I’m not,” Arlington began to think about his ability to satisfy this woman on a Vancouver summer night.

“Cross, you’re a man in need of healing. Let me tend to you, tonight,” Handling him with care, she ran fingers through his mixed hair and calmly remarked, “I can’t make the bruises go away,” Circling thumbs lightly on Arlington’s forehead, “But, I’ll try to minimize the pain.”

Becoming more relaxed with every rounding of a thumb on forehead, Cross chuckled ever so slightly, “Hmm. And, how are you going to do that, m’lady?”

Reaching down and unbuttoning his shirt, she slowly revealed that right shoulder into the light. Mixed colors of red and bluish green took up a space of about the size of two American half dollars. Brown eyes viewed this unpleasant sight of soreness, as a slight silence overtook her. Pao’s cape of charm returned to full flourish within seconds.

“Like this,” Light pink lips tapped along the periphery of that shoulder, making a final touch with tongue tip at its bull’s-eye, “This also, kind lord,” Mouth moved from shoulder to side of neck, as a trio of smooches met their target of Tse-Ling’s desire, “I want you to lay down for me, Arlington.”

Being tended to with such gentleness, Cross couldn’t resist a little needling of this beauty in his midst, “It’s nice to hear the pearl wants to take control of this night’s situation.”

Cross couldn’t resist a little needling of this beauty in his midst, as he never had been tended to before with such gentleness “It’s nice to hear the pearl wanting to take control of this night’s situation.”

“It’s not for my need, Mr. Cross.” Without a doubt aroused by him, Pao Tse-Ling had another reason to get this man onto a bed. “It’s for the benefit of you.” Watching him laying flat on that bed, the explanation became clearer, “To relax your muscles.” Taking his shoes off and placing them under the bed, as he laid on powder blue sheets.

Laying there in black pants and socks alone, Arlington’s stomach revealed a bruise the size of a Bosc pear, a quarter of an inch from his navel, “You could relax the knottiest enigma known to man, Pao.”

Bending her body over him, Ling licked that fruit shaped sore spot on Cross’s flesh, “Every knot can be untangled,” Starting to unbuckle his belt, pleasure would be theirs for the night, “Just relax and let me show you just how gentle I can be.”.....................

- end of excerpt

In the aftermath of a brutal attack at his antiques business from an intruder, Arlington Cross receives comfort in the arms of an unlikely angel, Pao Tse-Ling.

Never had danger touched his life before. But, mystery landed on this antique dealer’s doorstep with the upcoming auction of some fabled objects of romance.

Rack desire. Rack adventure. Rack your nerves. “Rack Em”.

————————-
Arlington Cross - Vancouver antiques dealer and owner of Cross Collectibles and recipient of a package from the deceased elder female in France. He is a man under the faulty impression that making a move from the United States to Canada would make his life more simplistic. Little could Arlington Cross ever imagine how complex an antique auction would be.
———————————-
Pao Tse-Ling - Chief of acquisitions for a Chinese antique house. Sent has been on a journey to Canada for a simple purchase during an upcoming auction at Cross Collectibles. Not just any items would bring this female across the world to North America. These are treasures that Tse-Ling and her employer have been quite interested in for many years. Little did she think any danger would exist at a humble location in Vancouver.
———————————-

In the world of international auctions, a Vancouver antiques dealer is at the center of an erotic & exotic quest for treasures from a pair of fated lovers of centuries gone by.

A woman’s love for a man delivered danger onto the doorstep of Arlington Cross. Love was adventure he never saw coming his way. Yet, romance was beyond the bounds of time.

From a simple action in 1758 France, Manon was a woman who sacrificed her glittering bobbles to get a lover out of prison. Seems like something so innocuous to lead to a modern day mystery. Yet, her name was Manon Balletti. And, the man who held her heart was known more famously by his last name - Casanova…

A.H. Scott sets the game of life on edge in the pages of “Rack Em”. 




#AMAZON / BARNES& NOBLE / ITUNES / SMASHWORDS

CHANCE/CHOOSE/CHANGE - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

CHANCE
CHOOSE
CHANGE


Chance
take - took
make - made
break - broken
Choose
tied - torn
decide - decode
capture - control
Change
hold - sold
forever - farewell
accept - decline
opportunity
YOURS - MINE

- A.H. Scott
4/19/13


........six letters blowin' in the wind. don't let the Piper of Possibilities whistle fall further in the distance to your ears ever again........

DAZZLE WITH ZAZZLE - ENIGMATIC VISIONS WITH A.H. SCOTT

Art can change the world. Every day alive can bring something new into your heart and soul. Seen, unseen, heard, unheard and everything that spirals in its orbit is what inspires and attracts my spirit. 

All styles and variances of artwork have always interested me, for it exudes the exuberance of life through the kaleidoscopic lens of vivid brilliance. Or, sometimes it's just taking a few clicks of my camera and waiting to see what comes of it. 

“I believe art should be as enigmatic as the artist who creates it.” – A.H. Scott

This is Enigmatic Visions: 

Wall art, t-shirts, travel mugs, coffee cups, phone cases, stationary, magnets (and, hopefully many more types of items to come)

https://www.zazzle.com/store/enigmaticvisions

!!D A Z Z L E with Z A Z Z L E!!

LOVE MAKES THE IMPOSSIBLE POSSIBLE - "SANGRE: DAUGHTERS OF THE ROSE MOON"

Brian slumped onto the edge of the sofa with a blank stare on his face. 

Gregorio Esapeda placed a hand on Brian’s shoulders to reassure him that he wasn’t losing his faculties. The elder man caught a glimpse of something he hadn’t seen earlier when Cromwell revealed the photographs of Sangre. 

A single item in a single image of that young woman drew Gregorio into a mystery, which even he wouldn’t believe. 

Esapeda’s voice raised, “Brian? Tell me about this item in the photograph with her” He pointed at a necklace, which hung around Sangre’s sinuous neck. 

Brian stood up and looked at the picture slowly, “It’s a necklace she had been given by her grandmother”. Placing picture down, “I was helping her move some boxes at her place and it fell out of a denim pouch that contained that necklace”. He wondered out loud, “Do you know something about that necklace, Greg?” 

“I’ve seen that necklace somewhere” Right hand began rubbing chin gently, as he thought, “But, it can’t be….can it?” 

Brian was curious, “Gregorio, what is it?” 

Professor Esapeda didn’t say another word, as he began looking through a stack of books located in a small cabinet next to the kitchen. As he did so, Nathan and Brian gave quizzical looks to one another. 

Thick leather tome with raised lettering upon it was removed from that cabinet and held in Gregorio’s hands. Sitting down in the middle of that sofa, he cracked the book open slowly. As a scent of aged wood wafted from the faded pages of that book, this man gazed once more at a particular image of Sangre. 

“Come, both of you. Please, sit down on either side of me” Gregorio Esapeda sounded like an explorer finding a new world, “I knew this necklace was one which I’d seen before”. 

Nathan asked, “Grandfather, what is it?” 

“Greg, what does my Sangre have to do with this old book?” Brian was befuddled over the intersection of the young beauty which captured his heart and a book that had seen too many days gone by. 

With either man aside him, Gregorio held the photograph of Sangre in his left hand and his right thumb upon a page of that book, “Look at both pictures, Brian”. 

There it was in a fading book of ancient myths and legends, an image of a necklace upon a Goddess of Citirion. 

Cromwell knew Esapeda was only trying to assist him with finding Sangre. But, a picture in a dusty, old book had nothing to do with a woman of the present day. 

“I’m the man here, who should be grasping at straws, Gregorio”, Brian was just brushing off this implication of what his friend just said, “Not you”. 

“Citirionites are nomads” Gregorio continued, “They came from a dying star many moons ago” Squinting his eyes at the image in that book, Esapeda spoke with resolution of his analysis, “The necklace matches. But, stop and look carefully at the resemblance”. 

Sometimes skeptical of his own elders’ observations, Littlefeather lightly chuckled, “Grandfather, what you are saying is not logical”. 

Reining in level of respect he required from his grandson, Gregorio Esapeda spoke from a position of a man who treasured the lineage of history, “We’ve learned from our elders. That knowledge has descended the ancients to our elders” 

Single word barely escaped Brian’s mouth, “Alien?” 

Knowing how odd this may have sounded to the two younger men in his presence, Esapeda wasn’t speaking about little green men out of tin can spacecraft scurrying about this earth. 

Gregorio was speaking of an ancient people who found a home on planet earth – the Citirionites. 

“What I am telling you is this” Sternly he spoke, while gazing downward at both images, “Only Goddesses of Citirion are chosen to wear that necklace”.

Gregorio was not backing away from that fact. 

“If what you are saying is true, then I’ve lost her forever” Brian took a long breath. 

Nathan sighed, “Grandfather, is that true?” 

“All moments hold opportunity. And, even her decision to leave here right now, is most timely” Gregorio placed palms together, as another aspect of the legend was told, “There is a brief period when this location known as Paraiso de la Rosa Luna. Or, Paradise of the Rose Moon can be accessed”.

Brian held a piece of paper in his hand, which he never thought would be shown to anyone else, “I found this in her bedroom. But, I didn’t realize the importance of what she wrote until right now”. 

As Nathan was handed the slip of paper, he slowly began to read it out loud, “Cuando una pizca de rubor se ve en la Luna, que es cuando me encuentro a mi casa” Then, he repeated it in English, “When a speck of blush is seen upon the moon, that is when I find my home”. 

Sangre’s words were almost a roadmap for Brian to locate her. He just hoped the moment to hold her in his arms once more hadn’t been lost to eternity. 

“You have said you love this woman, Brian” Gregorio added a question to that statement, “How far are you willing to go to have her in your arms again, Brian?”

Brian Cromwell was at a crossroads of logic and legend. For what would have been simple to say in response, this man in love loosened the boundaries of his own thinking about probabilities and possibilities to hold Sangre once more, “Anywhere that is possible”.

“Love makes fools of men” Elder male smiled and inhaled at the reason for even bringing up a solution to this predicament, “Love makes the impossible possible”…end of excerpt 

************************

Can love be just around the corner, or beyond the stars? 

Some men fall in love with the girl next door. For one man, his heart was touched by a woman from farther than he could imagine. 

Brian fell in love with a dream. 

Yet, the fantasy was a nightmare, because this woman was not what she seemed. 

Her name was....."Sangre".

A.H. Scott invites you into a new dimension in “Sangre (Daughters Of The Rose Moon)”. 

On that pathway to happiness in this romantic adventure fantasy, love is the ultimate destination. 

“In the end….we are left with ourselves” – A.H. Scott

*****************************

Amazon/Barnes & Noble/ITunes/Smashwords

AMAZON US - 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON UK - 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON GERMANY - 

https://www.amazon.de/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON FRANCE - 

https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON ITALY - 

https://www.amazon.it/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON SPAIN - 

https://www.amazon.es/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON JAPAN - 

https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON INDIA - 

https://www.amazon.in/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON CANADA - 

https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON BRAZIL - 

https://www.amazon.com.br/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON MEXICO - 

https://www.amazon.com.mx/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

AMAZON AUSTRALIA – 

https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00GTYZPZ6

BARNES & NOBLE - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sangre-ah-scott/1120220698?ean=2940046129113

ITUNES - https://itunes.apple.com/au/book/sangre-daughters-rose-moon/id913040786?mt=11

SMASHWORDS – 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/470328

“In the end…..we are left with ourselves” – A.H. Scott 

**************************

N O W - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

Now Is (Live It Or Lose It)



Now is the time
Now is forever
Now or never
Now is war from without and within
Now is conflict of hating that which is other
Now is seeing the enemy as our brother
Now is the time to make the most of it
Now is peace if ego steps aside
Now is a rocket to the moon the kid in us wants to ride
Now is nowhere quick
Now is everywhere fast
Now is me
Now is you
Now is all the which the past has put us all through
Now is the scent of a baby fresh and new
Now is that smell of an old person who stews
Now is those celestial wheels which churns
Now is the death machine and ensuing rage that burns
Now is that single spot which holds you
Now is the distance to Timbuktu
Now is MINE
Now is YOURS
Now is THE time
Now is that snore that holds off morn
Now is that yawn that cradles a new dawn
Now is the moment
Now is the reason
Now is the oxygen that inflates your lungs
Now is the season for singing those special songs
Now is right
Now is wrong
Now is memory of a first time
Now is cold ocean water engulfing your ankles
Now is those snowballs plastering your coat
Now is being at the local pool learning to float
Now is children at play
Now is hoping innocence will stay that way
Now is knowing the Devil's card tricks make a play
Now is knowing that God's love has to give sway
Now is a laugh
Now is a tear
Now is telling a stranger that you care
Now is nature pulling the brakes on mankind from time to time
Now is a blanket of snow which covers blanket of leaves
Now is a hot cup of cocoa to take off the chill
Now is being lucky enough to have heat inside of a home
Now is hands pressed in prayer for those who have none
Now is trying better for yourself and others around
Now is an opportunity that abounds
Now is the flame of curiosity in the twinkle of your eye
Now is a miracle on this mortal earth
Now is proving courage is stronger than dirt
Now is making a way out of nothing
Now is recognizing there is no room for punting
Now is building a better world for generations to come
Now is not a sprint, but a long, long run
Now is gone as you read along
Now is sun rising at dawn
Now is rain cascading down
Now is a rose beginning to bloom
Now is a petal cast to the wind too soon
Now is a whisper of hush and roar of WOW!
Now is not yesterday
Now is not tomorrow
Now is this second not to waste
Now is to live without haste
Now is what it is
Now is NOW
(live it or lose it)


- A.H. Scott
11/24/12

LET'S GET LOST - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

...let’s get lost, honey…

just for a month...

..just for a week

just for a day..

..just for an hour

just for a second away..

get lost with me, honey and memory will be ours forever!! 

- A.H. Scott 

12/14/12

E X P L O R E - A POEM BY A.H. SCOTT

Explore 

by 

A.H. Scott

Explore inner space
Explore outer space

Explore the wrinkles of time upon my face
Explore experience, which youth hasn’t a clue of
Explore my hands with kisses from your lips
Exploring you like a sojourner, is such a trip 
Truth be told, we’re not so old after all
Few flakes of snow in your attic, doesn’t mean the fire doesn’t still burn below 
Gravity sent a farewell peck on my buns and melons many days ago 
Lying here together, I rest my hand on your chest
You lay your hand upon mine gently
Feels nice to know a man who can truly appreciate a woman
Not a girl am I with a giggle and vacant sigh
Nor you a boy with a constantly descended fly
Explore the moments to treasure one another
Exploring you as my lover
My lips meet your chest and make it’s acquaintance
Soon, I’ll be giving you full maintenance
Manicured nails roll onto flexing muscles
In the night of blue moon and stars, my hands are exploring your galaxy 
Bodies braided lightly on that bed as we emerged in love again and again and again
Stars in my eyes, are nothing compared to the tingling in my thighs 
Neither of us were chicks at heaven’s dawning
Yet, when I wanted to go one more time, it was you that started yawning
Exploring is fun
And, not just for those of slim age
Quality is an experience that gets better with time
Exploration is the care that a woman and man share when they toss away society’s clock
Morning came and we awoke in each other’s arms
Refreshed and revived, our hearts are alive
Exploring the day anew
It’s nice to share tender gems of my life with you…

- A.H. Scott
   2/21/12