* SINGLE SPOTLIGHT * ~ By Absolutely*Kate of Harbinger*33

*
SINGLE SPOTLIGHT
*

  ALA ~ 
ABSOLUTELY*KATE

"You're On!"

"But I'm nervous -- I'm frightened -- I'm unsure ~ what if they hate me -- what if they don't get me -- what if I stumble or falter or trip or get caught up in --- ", was never fully stage-whispered out . . . since the swift sensation of HIS lips crushed her imagined calamity backstage, slamming a cymbalic crescendo of silence . . . damning all doubt. 

Crescendos center-staged while time stopped, the orchestra started out in the key of C, stagehands cleared imperative scratchy throats and memories played strong and long, mezzo forte ~ memories of last night, of last year, of decades hence, of sheets that twisted feelings no longer resisted, of eyes which blazed and sighs that enchanted where tantalizing touches languished on honeysuckled skin, and of secrets that tasted how Forever must taste (kinda butterscotchy), all surged further in, in, IN to the notable light which ignites the darkness of two morphing as one, so that all which is seen is the inner soul of its other, and who even knows where one began the beguine and the other refrained? 

When a kiss is not just a kiss but the peace, promise and persistence of being where you've been and going where you're going and knowing without showing that a far greater presence permeates mere day-to-day to all possibilities having their potential sway . . . that's when you hear, loud and clear, past the rising roar of any audienced cheer, "I believe in you." 

BUT THE SHOW MUST GO ON . . . and with a hustled rush and rustle to her shimmering silks, she was push-glided through the imperceptible slit where velvet curtains give way to wonders of a wide waiting world . . . where her step did not falter, her smile did not waver (though her lipstick was clearly smeared), where her tone did not tip or tumult as she and the glisten of trademark sequins found their mark, confident out of shadowed darkness to the circle glow of an ongoing single spot and there ~ octogenarian Genevieve Grace accepted her lifetime achievement award,  simultaneously marveling how synergy and symbolism attunes . . . as she belted out her tune, to the proud packed house in hometown Peoria: 
 

"Oh my man . . . 

I love him so . . .

he'll never know . . ."

Oh, but he  . . . did. 

(c) 2010 ~ Author Absolutely*Kate

Absolutely*Kate believes in believers and all the powers which love projects . . . and protects. She's proud to call AT THE BIJOU a hearty well-lit home to welcome in wit, grand talent and spirit. Kate's currently navigating reader'ship seas with HARBINGER*33, heralding 33 authors' greatness . . . in furthering destinies. Four more books are in the harbour and the horizon holds no limits. Naturally, she wishes you "Fair Winds, Favourable Seas . . . and Happy Lovin' Valentines' Day!"

The sentiments of

this 'peace'

  are dedi*kated

to the one I love,

to Prof/Matt ...

~ from 

Kate/Katrina,

absolutely 

On Believing in Believers: *SANTA*

G. K. Chesterton met up with me last night in my mind's eye at the corner of where Spirit meets Spark and I'm pretty sure he conveyed that the whole *Believing* theme was well worthy of another good hark. Indeed, it heralds good things to be and that . . . well that harbingers well with me.

Dear BIJOU afficiandos, will you kindly sit back and pour out a cup of your brand of good cheer? Take your mind back, back to the wonders of any good year. Are you there? Can you sense anticipation, taste the jubilation? Christmas is coming and holidays sparkling all hues.

Share this moment with a True Believer's good muse?

On Believing in Believers: *SANTA*
G.K. Chesterton preponderizing to Absolutely*Kate
on the day he missed his train again:

"What has happened to me has been the very reverse of what appears to be the experience of most of my friends. Instead of dwindling to a point, Santa Claus has grown larger and larger in my life until he fills almost the whole of it.

It happened in this way. As a child I was faced with a phenomenon requiring explanation. I hung up at the end of my bed an empty stocking, which in the morning became a full stocking. I had done nothing to produce the things that filled it. I had not worked for them, or made them or helped to make them. I had not even been good-— far from it. And the explanation was that a certain being whom people called Santa Claus was benevolently disposed toward me; what we believed was that a certain man did give us those toys for nothing.

And, as I say, I believe it still. I have merely extended the idea. Then I only wondered who put the toys in the stocking; now I wonder who put the stocking by the bed, and the bed in the room, and the room in the house, and the house on the planet, and the great planet in the void. Once I only thanked Santa Claus for a few dolls and crackers, now I thank him for stars and street faces and wine and the great sea. Once I thought it delightful and astonishing to find a present so big that it only went halfway into the stocking. Now I am delighted and astonished every morning to find a present so big that it takes two stockings to hold it, and then leaves a great deal outside; it is the large and preposterous present of myself, as to the origin of which I can offer no suggestion except that Santa Claus gave it to me in a fit of peculiarly fantastic good will."

* * * * * *
G.K. Chesterton didn't sail his ceaseless wordflow upon the multi-billowing genres of the Harbinger*33, though I do know within me, (where it counts the most), he too would believe wholeheartedly in this journey of a literary venture to showcase 33 stellar authors of growing renown. You see, he missed where he was going to get to where he was when writing profusely on trains as our Mull does. He had a twinkle in his eye and a joke about his demeanour as our Music Mike Whitney does. He smoked a cigar in the same devil-may-care manner that Anthony does down in Bukowski's basement when his lovin' wife thinks he's just blowing smoke. He laughed in the face of those who challenge *magic* as our jaunty Jodi does again-and-again-and-then-some. He gave good solemn counsel, as does our Sal. Oh there's more . . . but he'll be back again and then I'll tell you then.

For now, do keep on readying your holiday ambiance of mind and spirit.
~ Absolutely Christmas*Kate!