Love is friendship set to music
Studies in contrapuntal harmonies
Inventions in two parts and sometimes three
Polyphonic adventures to excite and tease

Love is a melody composed for two
Chorales performed in the circle of fifths
Expressions of trust in theory and practice
Symphonic concerts sealed with a kiss

It was a fine morning, and it was Sal--the mailman's--last day on the job. He had faithfully delivered the mail, to the same neighborhood, day in and day out, through all kinds of weather, for the past 35 years. Today, everyone wanted to show their appreciation, to honor Sal and wish him a wonderful and well-deserved retirement.

When he arrived at the first house on his appointed route, he was greeted by the whole family, who congratulated him and sent him on his way with a large envelope. It was a surprise, they said, not to be opened until he got home.

At the second house, he was presented with a box of fine Cuban cigars.

The folks at the third house handed him a selection of terrific fishing lures.

At the fourth house he was welcomed at the door by a strikingly beautiful woman, dressed in a very revealing negligee. She took him by the hand, gently led him through the door, closed it behind him, and urged him up the stairs to the bedroom where she proceeded to blow his mind with the most passionate sex he had ever experienced. When they were both satiated, they showered and met downstairs, where the woman, more gorgeous than ever, fixed him a giant breakfast of eggs, potatoes, ham, sausage, blueberry waffles and fresh-squeezed orange juice. When he was truly satisfied, she poured him a cup of steaming hot coffee. As she was serving the coffee, Sal noticed a dollar bill sticking out from under the cup's bottom edge.

"All this was just too wonderful for words," Sal complemented and then asked, "but what's the dollar for?"

"Well," answered the beautiful woman, "last night, I told my husband that today would be your last day, and that we should do something special for you. When I asked him what we should give you, he said, 'Screw him. Give him a dollar.'" She turned to face Sal, smiled, winked and continued, "The breakfast was my idea."

Dearest Unknown:

I imagine myself on a yacht with you, floating adrift 'neath the starry heavens; lavishing succulent kisses unbounded along each gentle rise and curve of your gorgeous body; anointing the softness of your fabulously sun-burnished skin with floral scented massage oils and bittersweet chocolate. Your sensuous eyes holding me fast, like a sea anchor tied to this wildly racing heart, calming the tempestuous oceans of love. I am yours forever, gentle woman--body, mind and soul--to do with as you will. It is a wonderment that I could ever have endured a single solitary second without your presence and grace.

Please, consent to meet with me this night, adorned in your barest lace. Bring all of your love, my most cherished darling, and we shall celebrate the unbridled ecstasy of our searching together.

As always, yours eternal, Ready ...

Her eyes, black as moonless night, oozing and bubbling like twin La Brea tar pits, sucked me in from across the room, drowning my free will in their quicksand like intensity; and as she crooked one long, curving, painted nail into the left nostril of my undying soul--at once burying my heart to decompose in the compost of eternal promise and pulling me ever closer to her full, collagen engorged lips--I thought: “Man, this is going to be one hell of a night”

A length of rope walks into a bar, sits down and orders a beer. The
bartender says, "Hay, we don't serve ropes in here."

Disappointed, the rope leaves. Suddenly he gets an idea. He stops a
man on the street and asks, "Sir, will you please tie a knot in me and
then separate my strands at both ends?" "Sure," says the man,
shrugging, "why not."

The rope goes back into the bar, sits down and orders another beer.
The bartender looks him over and asks: "Say, aren't you the same rope
that was just here?"

"Nope," he replies, shaking his head, "frayed knot."

They say free advice is worth every penny, still I just had to get my two cents in then and there--she'd been sitting in my mind like a plug nickel all day and I had to tell her even if she didn't consider my opinion worth a dime. As I gazed at her from across the room, longingly, her eyes glittering like shiny new quarters, I tossed a fifty-cent piece into the air, catching it easily, not really paying attention, heads or tails it did not matter. I was nervous and feeling useless as a three-dollar bill. Five would get you ten she'd just say no again, I thought, no interest, but I'd made up my mind. Withdrawing a reserve of courage I did not own, I took a deep breath and, bold as a c-note, walked straight over to her, flashed her my best thousand dollar smile and said, "Baby, you look like a million bucks." I knew it was a billion to one shot, maybe a trillion. But, she'd already taken my heart to the bank; and I'd sold my soul just to get this far. I had nothing left to lose and all the world to gain. Sometimes you simply have to try: "So, um, what do you say? Can I buy you dinner this evening?"

One day a man, who lived in a block of high-rise, apartment buildings
in the heart of the city, thinking he heard the patter of rain on the
sill, leaned out the window to have a look. As he did so, a small
object, falling from above, struck the palm of his hand, causing it,
instinctively, to close. Upon opening his hand, he noticed, what
appeared to be, an exquisitely hand carved, sea green, prosthetic eye.
Curious, he leaned farther out, turned and looked up to see where it
might have come from, whereupon he beheld a beautiful, young, smiling
woman.

"Is this yours," asked the astonished man, holding his hand up for her
to see?

"Yes," replied the lovely woman, then continuing, "could you please be
so kind as to bring it up to me?"

He agreed and she gave him the room number. She was waiting at the
open doorway when he arrived at her apartment. She said she could not
possibly thank him enough for his quick reflexes, but would very much
like to invite him in for a drink. After drinks, she offered to make
him dinner, it being the least she could do. As they were finishing
desert, she smiled demurely and asked one last favor:

"I've had such a marvelous evening," the woman started, then after a
short pause, "I've really enjoyed your company. Would you please stay
the night?"

Surprised, the man hesitated briefly before asking, "Are you this nice
to every man you meet?"

"Oh, no, not at all," she replied, winking, "only with those that catch my eye."

... in a land far away, a beautiful, independent, self assured princess
happened upon a frog as she sat, contemplating ecological issues by the
shores of an unpolluted, freshwater reservoir in a verdant meadow near
the castle she had designed and built herself.

The frog immediately hopped up onto the fair maidens lap and announced:
"Elegant Lady, I was once an handsome prince, until an evil witch cast
a spell upon me. One kiss from you, however, and I will turn back into
the dapper, young lord that I am, and then, my sweet, we can marry and
setup housekeeping in yon castle, along with my mother of course, where
you can prepare my meals, clean my clothes, bear my children, and
forever feel honored and grateful and happy doing so."

That night, as the princess dined sumptuously on a most exquisite
repast of lightly sautéed frogs legs seasoned in a white wine and
shallot cream sauce, she chuckled to herself and was heard to observe:
"I don't ****in' think so."

I am strolling through a crowded, open-air market place. It is Moroccan-summer hot. I am being jostled about by throngs of shoppers, busy as hungry fire ants. I stop briefly for a drink of water in the lee of an ancient shade tree. As I wipe the dust from my eyes with a silk kerchief, I see her once again:

She turns slowly and smiles to me from across the plaza. She is beautiful: body, mind and spirit--woman, child, goddess. My breath catches in my breast. For a second it is as if she and I are all that remain, all that is truly real. I raise my arm to beckon, heart quickening, breaking the spell. But she has already disappeared behind the press of buyers and sellers. Quickly, sprinting, dodging, I give pursuit, ever scanning for her presence. Alas, by the time I reach the place she was, she has gone.

Though circumstances may vary as the seasons and phases of the moon, still the motif is always present: I catch but a fleeting glimpse, a smile, a wisp of wind-blown hair, the glint of sun through light summer dress as she walks, never hurried but away, occasionally her essence wafting by on an evening breeze. And always the promise ...