The winter was cold and blistery over a half century ago when all this found it's beginning. An infant boy was born on the one thousand nine hundred and fifty first anniversary of the Epiphany of the Savior Child. Born to Anglo Saxon parents in the wilderness of a country still very young in the world. His nourishing was complete in the Christian atmosphere, trips to the local church, schooling by nuns and priests. Reading of fairy tales at night before bed preceded all that and sleep took its daily tithing. From these readings came the shaping of his mental awareness.
The thoughts of a red riding hood, a big bad wolf, the funny humpty dumpy sitting on a wall, falling for not all the kings men could put the poor fellow back together again. Tinker bell and the land of children being chased by the hooked sailor, and a boy named Peter saving them. Peter sitting by him-self in a corner eating pumpkin and curds. Pumpkin either in a pie or pudding food something that every Thanksgiving made this one's stomach's message to the brain do not eat. Little Bo Beep, Bla Bla Black Sheep, so many rhymes shaping the future of this infant boy.
School the nuns dressed in their penguin outfits making each day seem like Halloween, the priests with the collar around their neck white as the snow outside. This period in his life shaping him for the future not from the books and the lessons in class but the attitudes shown. The head or principal of the school was a nun a very caring wonderful nun that wielded a leather persuader. Having a loud mouth, an inquisitive mind, thinking all things should be rosy with happy endings due to his diet of fairy tales and rhymes. Most teachers had a handful with this child. Marched down to the office out came the palms of his hands down came the thump and whack of leather; the look from Mother Nun always the same constant smile, count the strap child; one, two, three, four, five etc until the punishment was doled out.
The palms of his hands hardened and so did the ability to accept the pain until possibly years later the connection was made. This connection came evident when he stumbled upon a woman whom looked into the soul of this lost boy turned man in body and age but deep inside was still the little boy. His hands stretched out waiting to taste the touch of leather on his skin. Desire to find all the good feelings from the fairy tales, with the happy endings, come to think of it all male characters were controlled by female dominants. Research was now needed were all the authors female or male submissive. Had through the literary world of vanilla existence really formed an underworld or subliminal society of female superiority and dominance, male acceptance and slave like desires. Or possibly it was just this infant child whom had all the triggers planted and nourished throughout his boyhood and adolescence.
Winter was his time the snow covered grounds, the ice hanging from the tree limbs, the sun reflecting like rays of warmth bouncing back up to comfort the exposed skin. The postcard existence captured by camera and photographer etched into his mind as the only time that the world seemed upright. Crisp crackling sounds reverberating off the ground after a fresh sprinkling of flakes. Deep breathes filling the lungs with coolness almost enough to knock one out. Exhaling the molecules of carbon dioxide seeing it change into white wisps of smoke from lips to the atmosphere. Bundled up from head to toe, the teasing flesh of the woman hidden not tempting his knees to fall and worship. Heat caused by the mingling of thoughts with the naked exposure during the summer months under control during this clean clear white time of the year.
His only drawback was the loss of the garden with all the pretty colours of flowers. Aroma's that filled the air during the growing season the perfume of flowers as it chased away the crispness of the winter cold. Each spring with it's renewal of green pastures and budding trees, the death of winter smell giving way to the birth of teasing textures and sensual warm bliss. As new life resurrected in the gardens, and the leaves covered the limbs of the trees, women shed their coverings exposing their limbs and these internal feelings simmered within the little boy. Confusion for with his peers, the male bonding that surrounded and occupied the moments on ice, in dressing rooms, at the pub he was the leader, one always looked to for answers, the rock never stumbling. Father time his male buddies thought of the strength and control like the four seasons little boy had it all together.
In the fall all the deer run for their winter hiding, and when awakened in the spring they folic about, but never had his mind, body, and soul been frozen in taillight glare until the paths of two crossed like it did this time. Riveted by her beauty; chestnut hair cascading down over her shoulders like waves over a falls, soft doe like brown eyes. Holding a gaze longer as if searching the inner depths of existence. She smiled suddenly and then dropped her eyes; he noticed the slight colour change in her cheeks. A spring like thaw or warmth blanketed them. She looked like a schoolgirl with that expression and he felt like the little boy.
