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Margo y Pearl 1 Reply
Margo y PearlRebecca and Samuel's first born child came into this world screaming loudly and kicking. Samuel wanted the name Pearl. Rebecca wanted to name her Margo.“Darling why Margo?” asked…Continue
Started by Julia A Knaake. Last reply by Julia A Knaake Jan 7, 2021.
Poets Postings Please 4 Replies
Thoughts from He to SheYou are attracted to the shy one Do not tell me that M'dear You are unique with star-like fun Showing curiosity with no fearYour sweet childlike purity No way trying to be coy…Continue
Started by Julia A Knaake. Last reply by Julia A Knaake Oct 26, 2020.
Family Reunions 17 Replies
I haven't gone to a Family Reunion for years.I do miss that myself but most of the…Continue
Started by Julia A Knaake. Last reply by Aggie Aug 3, 2018.
MY FAIR PROSTATE..(In The Tune Of "I Could Have Danced All Night" 2 Replies
I could have peed all nightor block the urge and fight.I chose to stay in bed.I've totally stained my sheetsworse than a jar of beetsand now I'm soaked instead. I've got my wife all agitatedand my…Continue
Started by Mark Joel Lane. Last reply by luvy1950 Jul 22, 2013.
Comment Wall
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Comment by Aggie on August 9, 2018 at 9:08am
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Are you saving yourself for a man with cattle guards?
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Comment by Julia A Knaake on July 31, 2018 at 11:54pm
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Patchwork
be safe my friend
on your journey
through your new
adventures in life
making sure have
time off to renew
your minds thoughts
you will sense your
transformation with
new words on return©Julia A knaake
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I am keeping the lights on!
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Friends
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Fruit Roll-Ups ~ Old as the Hills
I remember these fruit leatherswhen I lived in the Syrian and
Lebanese section of town
on quaint Mulberry Street
with rows of neat homes
in old section Toledo, Ohio.
As a teen my Mother would
send me to Mrs. Haddad
to buy Syrian flat bread and pita
bread if she made it that day.
I also remember her kitchen
was so pristine white.
Mrs. Haddad, dressed in a
medium length black dress
with pearls around her neck
and high heeled shoes
was always covered in
a crisp clean colorful apron.
I waited for her to wrap
the bread I purchased
and often she would send
home fruit leather with me
for my Mother to cook
with a little water turning
it into the most wonderful
spoon jam to go with the pita
toasted the next morning
with a cup of thick black coffee.
Apricot and fig fruits
being my most favorite.
©Julia A Knaake
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A Frisson of Terror (continued )
by the sound of a knock at the door.
“Isabella! Isabella! Open the door.” said a man's voice. In a moment of intense excitement she let out a blood curdling scream! “Isabella! Isabella! Open the door.” said a man's voice again. “No. you go away. I do not know you. Now go away before I kill you.” screamed Isabela. A noise in her kitchen froze her to the spot. Such a clatter. Pots and pans along with the metal dust pan fell on the kitchen tile. A piercing scream came from the kitchen. “Isabella! Isabella! Open the door.” said a man's voice again. Valentina was now at the door saying: “Please let my nephew, Georgio inside. He will come to your rescue. He is about to break down the door.” Isabela went to open the door. The sounds from the kitchen seemed like they were right next to her. She was in a frisson of terror. With the pounding on the door and Valentina calling her she got her senses back enough to open the door. As she opened, Georgio, a handsome hunk of hairy muscular man gathered her into his strong arms. Valentina, dressed in her boldly colored caftan asked:
“ Did you find the kitty? I brought him up here while you were shopping. He is only on loan until we get that pesky mouse in your kitchen. I opened the window just a little so he would not smell up your apartment.”
By now Isabella and Georgio were staring into each others eyes.
Valentina was pleased at what she view between the two young adults and sweetly started singing:
Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole,
n'aria serena doppo na tempesta!
Pe' ll'aria fresca pare già na festa...
Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole.
Ma n'atu sole
cchiù bello, oje ne'.
O sole mio
sta 'nfronte a te!
O sole
O sole mio
sta 'nfronte a te!
sta 'nfronte a te!
Quanno fa notte e 'o sole se ne scenne,
me vene quase 'na malincunia;
sotto 'a fenesta toia restarria
quanno fa notte e 'o sole se ne scenne.
Ma n'atu sole
cchiù bello, oje ne'.
O sole mio
sta 'nfronte a te!
O sole
O sole mio
sta 'nfronte a te!
sta 'nfronte a te!
©Julia A Knaake
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A Frisson of Terror
Isabella felt a sensation of coldness on her shivering skin.
Looking in the mirror she saw pallor in her skin. Her normal
olive skin looked like freshly falling snow. She felt a tingle of
a cold sharp slap in the room. Quivering she walked slowly
to the window. The thin curtains floated in and out the bottom
of the window. She was quite sure the window had been closed,
wondering how it had been opened. Was it opened by another person?
She looked around her rooms to see if anything else was disturbed.
It was twilight outside. The streetlights were coming on one by
one creating more shadows. Moving behind the draperies, covering the thin curtains she backed towards the overhead light. Checking to see if her
door was locked and bolted she then turned off the light. Peering
at the lock on the antique window Isabella saw it had been opened.
She closed the latch then started to shake with a rapid, tremulous
movement! Her mind told her she had locked the window that morning.
Perhaps Valentina, her landlady, had come into the apartment while
she was shopping. Isabella had allowed Valentina to enter anytime
she needed as she was quite comfortable in trusting her like a mother. Valentina was bold and exotic and treated Isabella as
her own child. Feeling a sudden sensation of pleasure and delight
Isabella went to the kitchen to see if any one had been inside. Valentina often left her a little tin or box
with some sweets. Looking around she did not see anything new. Opening her refrigerator she was looking to see if Valentina might have placed some pudding or a bowl of fruit inside to keep cool. No, no goodies were there.
While in the kitchen she heard a hoarse guttural sound. A throaty
hoarse sound. The hairs on the back of her neck felt as though they standing up. Isabella started to shiver convulsively, from fear. Her imagination went into a rampant uncontrolled vision of pictures in her head with visions of what might, could or possibly be in her apartment to pounce on her.
Shaking and trembling she tried to scream. Her scream was suppressed
©Julia A Knaake
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