The Maid of Orléans

A young and simple maid
on her knees once prayed.

First one vision came
followed by another
Archangel Michael
spoke to her and then
voices of others soon joined
in her mind’s affray but
she pushed those thoughts aside
after all tomorrow is another day
and those visions may just go away.

                                                                    But, those voices that she’d heard
soon spurred the virgin girl.

Showing her an image of war
and, of so much more.

Of how through her
and her holy wars
she would help restore the
crown to the Dauphin
(the rightful King of France) once more.

 At the siege of Orléans
first one fortress fell
and later on came others as the
army fell under her spell
of spiritual leadership.


                                                                                 politics and religion
are such a dangerous game
(not for the faint of heart)
and victory denied created
fear amidst those names
who vied, wanted to divide
to conquer and then, rule.

After many battles
(some say she was betrayed)
she was captured and with
trumped up charges
her cross-dressing the only
guilt they could lay
and this she did to protect herself
from molestation by male guards
but still,
the charge was laid.

‘Confess, confess’ they cried
and her jailer’s keys rattled
for he too, was on the righteous side.

They tried to shake her valour
but she kept her holy vows
bowing to none but the image
of her Saviour
because she knew that no-one else would save her.

                   Her prayer muted those frenetic crowds
some laughing and jeering
watching as she is paraded through
the square.

Soon, splinters pierce her feet
as they hoist her upon the pyre
and tie her to the stake.

Only one plea does she make
begging for a cross
and one kind soul took pity
broke a piece of wood in two
tied it like a cross
for her to hold against her
breast and then she screamed
out to her God
and burned.

Afterward came the blame
the shame
the condemnations.

‘She was everything good and right and pure
my God in Heaven forgive us for
we have put out her light’

And though the powers that be
demanded nothing left.
No bones, no relics, nothing
for people to worship or to attest
they wanted all trace of her gone
and, with it the guilt upon which they
would elsewise, dwell.
No weed must sprout from
those seeds of their
doubting pious misdeed.

  But she was more than
anyone could ever know
…even she herself.

One thing they could not suppress
nor keep her name or love of God in dark
The maid of Orléans
gained sainthood fame
and they call her

©Daydreamertoo             *All rights reserved


The pictures are all from the 1948 movie Joan of Arc starring the beautiful actress, Ingrid Bergman

This is from my love of history and, it’s famous figures through the ages.Joan of Arc immediately sprand to mind from this Sundays Wordle words. They all just seemed to fit my thinking and call it coincidence or what you will but, I was skipping through the channels on TV and it was also being shown at the time it came into my mind to write her story.

I call it, kismet.

Added a link below if anyone is interested in reading more about this Saint.

 Joan of arc (wikipedia)

 Shared with
The Sunday Whirl #15
dVerse Poets Openlinknight
Carry on Tuesday #116
Poetry Pot Luck #46
Thursday Poets Rally #49
Poets United Pantry #60

Holding the Essence


Days come and go

Seem to slip on by with
a movement of their own
Bring sadness and sorrow
or happiness and joy
each moment special and unique
as they never fail to touch
that sensitive part we keep
for us alone.

With a lovers eyes
I close mine
and then hear
the song of the wind
whisper her mystical

and swayed to trance
I see more than I have
ever seen before
through the mind’s eye.

A blade of grass dances
with simplistic moves
but, invitingly.
Enough for me to see
the light and then to fathom
it’s holding our essence

The very essence of

Pure life.


© Daydreamer Too

Shared with dVerse (Prompt Water)

If you have time and are interested enough, please read my post before this one entitled, Zen.




I dance the dance of life
treading softly through my days
lest I lose all sense of
earths balancing vibration.

You are here
far away
where the waves rise and play
on some distant horizon in my dreams.

Always, love’s theme

a choral symphony
where I stop, pause a while
amidst their sublime and
sequined, aquatic flow.

So you
So me.

A crescendo builds
as your passion’s flow
(I’m sure)
interrupts the tranquil
hush of heaven.

Should we retreat

listen to our soul’s cry
and heart sighs

but yet,

mine still beats
and revels in its continued
Zen of Being.


©Daydreamertoo       *All rights reserved

 Always thinking….and life goes on.

I'm There


Amidst the hustle, the bustle
the banter and busy daily buzz

I pause a while
sometimes, fumble
searching, seeking clarity.

Humble in my ways
watch the clouds roll by
see smiles etched in the sky that
(I know)
will last forever
from an artist’s palette
whose glance through lover’s eyes
paints with soul, ablaze.

Do you hear the wind blow?
It’s song is calling to you.
Wild and free
across tall grass prairies.
Or, do you stop to
feel it ‘neath bare feet.
That steady beat of nature’s life
between your toes.

Would you know the Celestial touch
that comes in whispers from a
gentle spirit as she
entreatingly imparts
‘I never did say goodbye’
don’t cry,
touch your heart

I’m there.’


© Daydreamer Too     *All rights reserved

For Chris and those I know, whose souls ache. Always, with love.

Shared with Thursday Think Tank Promt *Grass
Poetry Pot Luck week #45 Nature & life
3 Word Wednesday CCLI

She Who Shadow Walks


She who shadow walks
sweeps across my mind
as it turns back dusty pages
holding emotional times.

She was hurting so
reaching out to love
and with notes of deep
over-coming pain.

She would quietly come and sit
often stay a while
among the pages I would write
absorbing energy from words
that connected with the fragility
of her soul.

She loved to see and share the love.
The flowing steady stream of thought
that lived and breathed in light.

But is she lost now beneath the
weight of her cloak of shadows
that both warmed and offered her
protection from life and those hurts
that grew, as she did.

In my head I paint a picture of
her love in words which left lasting
footprints in my mind
(the kind you never throw away)

I miss
She Who Shadow Walks
and hope she will return

One day.


© Daydreamer Too *All rights reserved



I wrote this a very long time ago about a woman who used to come read my other online journal. Her notes meant so much to me. Like myself, she’d been hurt by life yet, she’d overcome it all the only way that we can, through love and, of learning how to forgive, sometimes the unforgivable.
People come into our lives for a reason, a season or, a lifetime. They teach us or, we teach them.
She came into my life to teach me and told me many times that, I too had become, pure love.
She was let down by a man she loved and disappeared then but after about 4 years, she returned to note me, once again, with that same quiet calm and serenity about her that I always sought, then somehow (after losing my life partner) I managed to discover for myself through going deeper within than I had ever been before.

It’s in that inner stillness that we find we are one tiny part of this universe but, we are an important part of it nonetheless and, in that stillness we find our balance, our clarity and then discover we know the answers to what troubles us.

I don’t know if she wore shoes. She is an earth lover, at one with nature. but, she walked into my life, inspired me with her use and love of words and her unabiding faith in people and, in a way she helped change, me.

Shared with dVerse Openlinknight #2
Poets United #58 prompt ‘Nighttime’
Poetry Potluck Week #45
Carry on Tuesday #115

Creating Life

The Creation Prometheus and Man
What they did was maybe reprehensible.
but, the need to feed their ego satiated
the dye was cast.
In a whir of obvious mechanics and
other unscrupulous noise
all rendered in the blink of an eye
with one quick flick and twist of the wrist
the distant curtains of clouds
were scattered, rent asunder
in marvel at their latest
(a fly on the wall)
can only watch and scan the
prize my insect eyes
could comprehend.
(like protected skin)
the painted gild began to shed
its outer molded wax

there on the plinth stood


 © Daydreamer Too          *All rights reserved

The picture is of the God Prometheus supposedly Creating Man.
(I love legends and all history)

Shared with The Sunday whirl Wordle #14
Sunday scribblings #277 (Distant)
One Single Impression #178 (Need)
Poetry Pot Luck #45

Before I Die

Before I die, I would love to know this world was united as
one race, the human race.


I do realise this is not going to happen in my lifetime and, maybe it never will but, for the world to heal and for the human race to survive, it’s what needs to happen.

Shared with Jenny Matlock Saturday Centus #64 (Before I die)

Quiet Nights & Sleek


Oh sweet, sweet lady
in bluest mood and solitude
conferring with you
the night is ours

Yours and mine alone.

You wake my soul unto the stars
in dreams and notes which roll across
keys that stroke away such pain
and waves that play in silent sway
to the song of my heart on
quiet nights like these.


© Daydreamer Too        *All rights reserved

Shared with Poets United Think Tank #58 Nighttime



Silently sublime

Suitably superlative

Swimming sensations.


© Daydreamer Too       *All rights reserved

I love most animals and would certainly never harm one, not even snakes and I don’t particularly like them but still, would not harm one unless it was my life on the line.
I’ve always loved Dolphins. They are so misused and abused for our entertainment. I’m sure they try to teach us where we go wrong in this world if only we could try to understand their ancient language.
Shared with The Purple tree house Shashi Haiku

Naked Thought


All doors open
Not a new concept
but in keeping with old
indomitable truth’s tradition.

Through crystal glass windows
(some might call a diverse dverse)
I’ve seen rainbow colour prisms,
share their kaleidoscopic rays
as yet, unscathed by
strife scratched days.

Where Angels must dream
in my sky of satin blue
I too, am so aware
that a single drop of H2O
holds all of universal time
and DNA strands are
as powerful now as in their
unique and ancient creation
almighty, but yet
as delicate as a butterfly
sits upon the hip
of life.


© Daydreamer Too        *All rights reserved

Shared with: New Pub/club for Poets dVerse OpenlinkNight
Poets United Poetry Pantry #58



From a celestial balcony
they observe
Serene, in their divine.

They watch as we would watch
insects scurry and
jostle for a place
amidst the bones of those
who’ve gone before.

Tides rise and fall
fill the void, within.

I dream of emerald wings
which rise slowly
lift, then flap their blessed freedoms
to a willing wind.

Oft times life hands us
ominous vibrations
but the rhythm matches
our own
and we make our choice
to either sink or, swim.

(I wonder)

Do the Angels ever partake
in this world’s created illusion
and theatrical pantomime.


© Daydreamer Too      *All rights reserved

I’m not quite sure what I was trying to say in this, I think (bearing in mind the 13 Sunday whirl words that had to be used) it’s that a lot of people seem to live in an unreal world these days. They want brilliant white teeth, no wrinkles, plastic faces to take away all signs of ageing, no grey hair, no fat. They dress their 5 and 6 year olds up in adult make-up and parade them in these beauty pagents and then wonder why they grow up screwed up as they become true adults.

 It’s all a created world of perfection, and illusion bought and paid for with money. It’s a crazy world we live in when we are not content to wear the lines on our faces with pride. I tell my teen, each line on my face was earned the hard way through winning lifes oft times hard battles and, I wear mine, with pride.

Reality is wrinkles and growing old, but with it comes the grace and the joy of learning and wisdom to know that you have made most of the big mistakes you’re likely to ever make and to relish in the fact of your inner growth.

Although I allow my thoughts to wander in their meditative daydreams, I do live in the real world. Where people still have yellowed teeth and fillings, wrinkles and grey hair, and… they are (mostly) all still, real.

Shared at: The Sunday Whirl #13 (I found this weeks words very challenging)
Poetry Pantry #58
Poetry Pot Luck #44

Perfect Union

stay a while.

The ink is ready
book, open
its pages, blank
the sharing of a dream.

You walk in
and a summer breeze
then visits, too
sharing the fragrance of you
as it lifts the curtains
and my skin reacts
(as if to dancing butterflies)
from that ethereal touch.

Time waits for no-one
and, I’m not getting any younger
so, fill your cup with
the abundance of my love
let it overflow with all
that it holds of life
and neither a borrower
nor a lender be
just, come
I’ll captivate
and you can
share these thoughts with me.

Let’s record a little history
against a backdrop of
starry skies and moonbeams.

to partake in these simplest
of pleasures
is heaven and earth’s
Perfect Union
(to me)


© Daydreamertoo         *All rights reserved

Shared with dVerse Poets The newest cool blog for Poets to share.
Carry on Tuesday #114
Poets United #Poets Pantry #58
Would’ve loved to have entered this to Jenny Matlock Saturday centus but, my Soul felt the need to speak more than 25 words, sorry Jenny. lol
A brief P.S. to The Saturday Centus, the good and kind hearted Jenny told me to go ahead and post it as a centus, anyway, so, I did~! Thank you jenny. 🙂

When Fates Collide

Zeus, The Greek Gods and the Pantheon
The Fates


With gold or silver thread
they spin their wheel of fortune
and thus decree
for better or, for worse
this is our destiny.

In ancient halls in Greece or Rome
they roam in realms of splendour
in alternate realities that
we no longer see
the Pantheon of Gods held
such a dreadful grip on
mortal man
… through fear.

Will I have cowed myself
before all their mythical might in
complete obeyance to the
vast reaches of their bidding.

(always defiant)
I think even then, as now
alone and, despite my meekness
I would keep my own council
forge my own unique path
upon this rock of life.

Because, it’s all about
taking chances
when fates collide.


© Daydreamer Too *All rights reserved

Shared with Sepia Saturday
Shared with (when it opens later) Jingle Poetry Pot Luck week#44

In ancient times, I believe there were Gods and there were Godesses and then, we (mortals) came into being. We didn’t just dream them up because we felt like it, they had to exist in the first instance or, we couldn’t have known how to create them if they hadn’t first existed.

Anyway, history (her story) has always fascinated me. I love anything and everything to do with awakening knowledge of where we came from, how we survived and where we are going.

A very elderly (96 years young) scientist friend where I used to write once said to me: “Bren, we are not at the frontier in our discovery of space, Earth is the last outpost. Earth, is the last place life (as we know it) exists. Maybe he is right, our world hold millions upon millions of animal, plant species and it is the only planet that sustains all of this life through that very taken for granted but very vital blue liquid gold (water)

Why so many millions of different species all on one planet and nothing else alive in the universe? Makes you wonder if we were all ‘planted’ here so that everything in the rest of the chaotic universe didn’t all die out.

He maybe right wouldn’t it be so cool to stick around for a few millennia and discover so much more…

 Told you I was a deep thinker….. Sometimes, I even make sense.   LOL

Sharing the Loneliness

I felt your ache today
it matched my hearts own.

Pull the strings too tight
it might just cut me deep
then, see me bleed upon the
blade of your pain.

My sorrows were yours
and you are my tomorrows.

But the past is
dead and gone away.

Today the angels wept
for you
left their tears
as gifts of dew
glistening in the dawn
and my tomorrow woes may
never come.

So I took you in my arms
and held you close
(small comfort)
and you wept the tears
that I no longer cry
(another silent sigh).

Your breast heaves
the heaviness of hearts
that have no home.

I shared your pain today
we were together
but yet, remained


© Daydreamer Too  *All rights reserved

There are all kinds of loneliness, we can be in a long-term relationship yet, still feel utterly… alone. I wrote this a very long time ago but it was applicable  to the Poets United Think Tank prompt this week.

Shared with Poets United Promt #57 Loneliness

Cosmic Love


I miss you
in those quiet spaces
(you know)
that pause we take before
breathing in the hint of
un-expected hope with a gasp
…suddenly, aware.

There’s a touch of magic
in the air.

Do you feel it?

(I know you do)

Thunder rolls along the
horizon of my distant dreams
but, with the option of free will
indecision is forgotten.
The noise is there simply
to remind
I am alive
and so too, are they.

Still, a wild untamed sea
emotions swim so deep in me.

Bitter-sweet and salt
the tears
over this white knuckle
roller coaster ride of life
where fate bids me stand
on the edge of destinys
secret well of longing

all senses can feel

Maybe the last chance
for romance will lie in

Cosmic Love.


 © Daydreamer Too    *All rights reserved

I believe it’s when we stop looking for love, that love, finds us.
Shared with 3 word Wednesday indecision, option, fate
Poets United Poetry Pantry #57

The Table Awaits


A table


Music plays
sets the background scene.

Past echoes reach beyond
the black and white of yesterday
into vivid colour.

The river still runs
in perfect symmetry with my
inner rhyme and
In cascading light
that falls silent, upon
my melancholy
a gentle spirit
(I know so well)
swishes across tree-tops
comes in whispering

(It will be okay)

Plays the dancing leaves
to ease that familiar ache
on the softest evening sigh
returns to the heart once more
its poignant memory.

Ah yes,
little I ask, my wants are few
and the table



© Daydreamer Too    *All rights reserved

Just some poetic expression wanting to make itself heard.

Shared with Thursday Poets Rally Weeek #48″
Carry on Tuesday #113
Poetry Pot Luck #43
Shared at
One stop Poetry Week #54
Poets United Pantry #57


The Poets Rally

Jingle gives us all a chance

to share poetry


© Daydreamer Too *All rights reserved

Thank you so much for this award, it is much appreciated.

I would like to nominate A Broken World