Posted by: Juliann Budimir | May 16, 2018

Limoncello

My trip to Capri wasn’t as exciting as the sun-soaked afternoon depicted by the incredibly handsome couple on TV, but it inspired my return.

 

The sun glistened on his hard, wet body as he came into the boat.  He was everything I wanted a lover to be – handsome, romantic and passionate – but also kind and captivating.  His eyes gazed into mine and reflected the long, lost years of loneliness I knew before we met, and he blinked them away like remnant tears from his eyes.  Rodolfo knew every curve of Capri just as he already knew my own.

“You should come in with me sometime.  Come into the water,” he said as he stretched out beside me in the skiff.  He was lean and fit with a gleaming smile that almost made me blush.

“I’d rather kiss you than swim.”

“You would?” he said with a playfulness I loved about him.

He gently brushed a stray curl from my temple and pulled me close with his other arm.  I tried to memorize the eternal bliss of his kisses, so I might know forever the joy he brought to me.  His mouth was on mine, and we were one with the summer sun.  I felt outside of time as if recapturing a youth I never knew or living a life far better than my own.  It was wondrous what lust did when it was shared.  I knew it wasn’t love, but that mattered not.  Not this summer, not this week, not this afternoon in my lover’s arms.

“Damned Limoncello!”

The words ripped me from my reverie, and I looked up from my notebook to see Mark’s wide, leathered back and thick waist leaning over the stern.  The leftover liqueur was caught in his line, temporarily tangled with the refuse of someone else’s memories.  He cast the empty bottle aside and sat down next to it as he continued to work to free the yellow and white striped ribbon that was stuck to the hook.

I looked down at my writing, those sappy, wistful words and then back at my reality.  Sitting on the low bench near the outboard motor, he looked more suited to a local sailing club than an Italian dream, but I couldn’t help but smile.  He felt it and looked at me, questioning me with his eyes.

“Remember the first time I ran my fingers through your hair?”  I asked.  “I didn’t know the effect it had on you.”

We met in the middle on the wooden bench nestled between the port and starboard of our lives.  Would we always share the same course?  There had been times when divergent winds separated us, but we always found our way.  The fair winds of our caresses outweighed the storms, and I felt safe back in his strong arms.

His greyish curls were thick under my fingers, and I loved the feeling as much as he did.  “You know all my spots,” he said as he pulled me close.

Our passion cut through the difficult days and made sense of our world.  In his kiss I saw a life outside of time, and I realized I had everything I dreamed of in that boat.  He was cozy and sexy at the same time, with his broad shoulders filling out his polo shirt, his delightful smile and thrilling wink of the eye.  As I wrote him in the first birthday card I gave him long ago, “May we share as many dances, sing as many songs, and savor as many kisses as time allows.”

 

Juliann Budimir, May 2018.  All rights reserved.

 

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Posted by: Juliann Budimir | May 12, 2018

After hours

It hardly ever rains, except it did that night

Hot and mushy like a lovers’ fight

The damp coming through the window on the driver’s side.

 

 

Juliann Budimir, April 2018.  All rights reserved. 

Photo:  Juliann Budimir

DSCN2577 - Copy (2)

 

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | May 11, 2018

Do You Follow?

Hi Followers, Bloggers, and Friends!

Could you please let me know by a “like” or a comment if you saw this post?  I ask, because there might have been a glitch in the system this week. 

I posted “Faraglioni” on May 10th, and I didn’t have any sign that it reached my Followers or the WordPress Reader.  It’s a romantic little interlude set on Capri, with a twist.  I’d hate for you to miss it or other posts!  Can you see “Faraglioni?”

Thank you for your readership and support!

Juliann

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Posted by: Juliann Budimir | May 10, 2018

Faraglioni

My trip to Capri wasn’t as exciting as the sun-soaked afternoon depicted by the incredibly handsome couple on TV, but it inspired my return in “Capri and Me.”

faraglioni-2582525_960_720

Capri and Me

The sun glistened on his hard, wet body as he came into the boat.  He was everything I wanted a lover to be – handsome, romantic and passionate – but also kind and captivating.  His eyes gazed into mine and reflected the long, lost years of loneliness I knew before we met, and he blinked them away like remnant tears from his eyes.  Rodolfo knew every curve of Capri just as he already knew my own.

“You should come in with me sometime.  Come into the water,” he said as he stretched out beside me in the skiff.  He was lean and fit with a gleaming smile that almost made me blush.

“I’d rather kiss you than swim.”

“You would?” he said with a playfulness I loved about him.

He gently brushed a stray curl from my temple and pulled me close with his other arm.  I tried to memorize the eternal bliss of his kisses, so I might know forever the joy he brought to me.  His mouth was on mine, and we were one with the summer sun.  I felt outside of time as if recapturing a youth I never knew or living a life far better than my own.  It was wondrous what lust did when it was shared.  I knew it wasn’t love, but that mattered not.  Not this summer, not this week, not this afternoon in my lover’s arms.

“Damned Limoncello!”

The words ripped me from my reverie, and I looked up from my notebook to see Mark’s wide, leathered back and thick waist leaning over the stern.  The leftover liquor was caught in his line, temporarily tangled with the refuse of someone else’s memories.  He cast the empty bottle aside and sat down next to it as he continued to work to free the yellow and white striped ribbon that was stuck to the hook. 

I looked down at my writing, those sappy, wistful words and then back at my reality.  Sitting on the low bench near the outboard motor, he looked more suited to a local sailing club than an Italian dream, but I couldn’t help but smile.  He felt it and looked at me, questioning me with his eyes.

“Remember the first time I ran my fingers through your hair?”  I asked.  “I didn’t know the effect it had on you.” 

We met in the middle on the wooden bench nestled between the port and starboard of our lives.  Would we always share the same course?  There had been times when divergent winds separated us, but we always found our way.  The fair winds of our caresses outweighed the storms, and I felt safe back in his strong arms.

His greyish curls were thick under my fingers, and I loved the feeling as much as he did.  “You know all my spots,” he said as he pulled me close.

Our passion cut through the difficult days and made sense of our world.  In his kiss I saw a life outside of time, and I realized I had everything I dreamed of in that boat.  He was cozy and sexy at the same time, with his broad shoulders filling out his polo shirt, his delightful smile and thrilling wink of the eye.  As I wrote him in the first birthday card I gave him long ago, “May we share as many dances, sing as many songs, and savor as many kisses as time allows.”

Juliann Budimir, May 2018.  All rights reserved. 

 

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | April 28, 2018

“Hi, handsome!”

The sidewalk was busy with people enjoying a Friday night filled with music and the aroma of street food from all parts of the world.  

It was bustling on the boulevard for the evening walk when, once a month, the shops stayed open late and encouraged camaraderie.  It was perfect for such a spring day as the daylight lingered long enough to savor the last bit of orange fade into lilac before settling into a moonlit sky.  My favorite bakery had run out of the free outdoor treats, but I enjoyed the walk and the local action.

We were stopped at the signal, a genial group of adults, kids, and four-legged friends.  “Are those Rat Terriers?” I asked, smiling at the two tidy dogs with fine, well-kept fur and distinctive features.

“They’re Fox Terriers,” the woman said proudly. 

“Handsome!”

The woman looked up at me like I had won a prize, then motioned towards the pinto-colored dog a few feet from where I stood.  “His name is ‘Handsome.’  He was a show dog, and that was his name.”

“Hi, Handsome!” I couldn’t resist saying with a smile. I knew a handsome guy when I saw one.

Juliann Budimir, April 2018. All rights reserved.

 

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Posted by: Juliann Budimir | April 17, 2018

Sing a Song to Your Music

A toast to words & music

Best-piano-keyboards

Sing a song to your music

Sing a song to your smile

Will you stay for a lifetime

Or just for awhile?

 

Your beats are so lovely

Your rests are so fair

Can I count all the bars

I would take you there

 

If I can’t give you love,

I’ll give you my words

The lyrics embrace your notes

In a love song we’ve heard

 

United together

In poem and art

Comingled as verses

A tune, Cupid’s dart

 

Words and music by, Juliann Budimir, April 17, 2018.
All rights reserved. 

 

 

 

 

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | March 27, 2018

Dandelion Flame

The flower full of splendid years
Is living proof our soul reveres.
Burnished by the sun,
The petals fall one by one
At year’s passing they reply,
“Will you make a wish, or shall I?”

 

The light is bright, not much akin
To brooding, quivering Theremins.
It burns orange, yellow in the night
Our ever flickering candlelight.
When words congeal and mind repairs
The weary world our soul compares

 

It never hears you call my name
Or sees you light my dandelion flame.
Till then my heart stands steadfast by
As my wish blows candle bye.

 

Juliann Budimir,
December, 2016

 

Juliann Budimir, 2016.  All rights reserved.

Photo by Juliann Budimir

DSCN1721

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | March 12, 2018

The Ascent

You’re the only man whose touch

Sings my words in rhyme

When poems form our love is born

The ascent is worth the climb

 

In vacillating dreams we see

Lost shadows in the sun

That soon congeal as hearts reveal

Thoughts we can’t outrun

 

It is the beat of drums, once far,

That pound and palpitate the flesh

When wounded memories recede, we are refreshed

As we inhale the gilded hope of stars

 

Together we encircle bygone days

Like vultures picking at their past

Sacrificing agonies in a bitter repast

Before we embark in the softly fading light upon our way

 

The steady beating from within propels us on

As we heed the journey’s endless call

The tactile joys, the tender touches all recall

The smiles and the looks I’ll greet anon

 

Till then your grasp is firm and one I can’t resist

With hands that pull me towards your beating drum

I hear intoxicating tunes of wit and rum

As arms envelop me and herald lips that kiss

 

When to the world will we dance as one

And awaken to the warmth of the summer sun

With drumming hearts in unison guiding to the light

Before the coda ends and ebbs into the night?

 

 

Juliann Budimir, March 11, 2018. All rights reserved.

DSCN2727

 

 

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | February 18, 2018

Introspection

DSCN1034 - Copy

He gazed out to the path
Of a worn-out dream
The ironic aftermath 
Of a love we’d never seen

 

Life lifted like the fog before his eyes
Drifted just out of reach
Before he realized
That songs unsung could not beseech
The quiet undertones
Our love might teach

 

 

Juliann Budimir, 2017. All rights reserved.

Photo by Juliann Budimir

 

Posted by: Juliann Budimir | February 12, 2018

Elusive

Malibu beach - Copy (3)

What made you leave our song unsung?

Once parted lips said naught but spoke in tongues

What elusive thoughts eclipsed the quiet night

Like shadows burning in an everlasting light?

After all the months of moonlight

Of tempos fast and slow

I hope you know

That somewhere between the brambles and the stars

In vintage love songs and lyrics shared in cars

Is a rose that loves you

More than you know

 

 

Juliann Budimir, February 2018.  All rights reserved. 

Photo by Juliann Budimir

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