~ By Absolutely*Kate
"You can see just fine and you know it."
"Cut it out. You promised the very next Brew Batch True you'd allow me to see which ingredients conjured mood, moment and momentum best by the selective stirring up of you."
"Aw for literally crying out loud, quit your whiny belly-aching! You'll still garner all optimum results if you use portending powers of Man-ifestation jusssst right."
"It's not my belly that's achin'. That's why Druscinda, I need -- my heartache needs . . . to see, to sense without pretense, to observe in full focus fantasia how to heat the peat and repeat this concoction to have on hand. I want to be able to produce a bottle on the shelf for myself -- by myself. This would make such a difference when The One comes along."
"Janelle, sweet always anxious Janelle . . . we've tried this before, we've tried it on four. Daniel, Donny, Dave and Drew. The results? Always alluring, temptatious, tantalizingly true. Remember? Those dudes just kept calling, wanting more dates and flirtates and to go courting and trysting. Tryst and Trust is a must. Tryst and Shout lets it out. *Magic* requires nothing and all but full-fledged out on a ledge open window of opportunity trust . . . Here dear, pour yourself a little more Sangria and go sit over there by the window. By the time you count out loud how many petals are on a blue hydrangea puff -- POOF! -- I'll have your potent potion batched for action. A true brew for a Lover . . . come rain or come shine."
"Oh good! You're making the batch that weathers well. That's always a swell spell. One - Two . . . Twenty Seven . . . Eighty Eight . . . Nine Hundred F-i-v-e . . . "
Blood Boil Kettle
2 teaspoons Needled Nettle
Eyelash and Mustache
Voltage on the Wry
Transmit to Receive
No other way to get by
Warmth, Heat, Fire, Desire
all simmer-steam-sizzle
in timeless-relevant Time
Generate for your mate
from depth of self you emanate.
To thine own self be True
Do ye batch what ye must do.
Druscinda turned and looked at the nestled heap o'sibling by the open window. Smiled. Her little sister was down for the count. Bewitched, bothered and bewildered only happens past Sinatra songs when Flow is redirected. We don't ask for love to come knocking and dancing down our door. We generate the heat of attraction, focus on shining a warm loving light out all the more. Positivity is a fact Jack. She smiled again, for her Jack knew. Now though, she must be nimble, she must be quick. She reached by her side and held high her pewter candlestick.
All the better to see, so not a drop would spill upon the Kazak rug below, she carefully poured the remainder of the Sangria into the cobalt blue crystal Vinturi decanter. Smiled again. Remembered what she had first been taught: The term decanter is taken from the word decant which literally means to pour gently. Soul casting sediment passes gently when love pours. Belief be one's best vessel. Stir in one soft whisper chant to accompany the bestowing of a very good decant, this one from her mentor in the sect of Glinda: "You always had it in you, that power to give love. There's no place like love, there's no place like ~ ~ "
Sleepy stirs. Gasps and reaches . . . "OH SISTER! You've made the Batch come True. Thank You! Oh Thank You! Whatever shall we call his Brew?"
"Why, JANELLE #5. How could it be otherwise?"
TO
BE
POURED
THE
MORE
(c) 2010 ~ Author Absolutely*Kate,
. . . who Believes in Believers
Visual Enhancement ala CarloAlessio, GBrummet, StevenDepolo
