All that Glitters








An admiring glance
fleeting comment
the money tree had
already chosen me.

Hands touched my shoulders
two smiles met my eyes
sparkling like the leaves
on that tree I’d just seen.
Identical faces and voices spoke with
tangible excitement
love shinning through.

“We knew you liked this Bren
so, we bought it for you.”

© Daydreamertoo    *All rights reserved


Walking around an open air flea market one day with my identical twin nephews who were around 9/10 at the time.. I’d spotted a golden money tree because the leaves were moving in the breeze and were sparkling and glittering.
As we walked past… I’d said how lovely it was, just asking a few pennies, but I walked by.

A few minutes later both my nephews tapped each shoulder and were beaming as I turned around, they’d gone back and spent some of the money we’d given them on buying that little tree for me.
It touched my heart so deeply… just that they wanted to please me and I have kept that little tree for many years now. Dean and Daniel ‘my boys’… both have children of their own now and they probably won’t even remember giving me that little tree is one of my most prized posessions.

It’s not worth a thing to anyone else…travelled half way across the world, been squashed completely out of shape with the many moves I’ve had to make and lost leaves that I then am determined I will find and, do find, to put back on it….It sits always in sight where it catches a breeze and still moves and glitters with the sunlight.

When all is said and done, it never comes down to how much money we have. It always comes back to one thing that matters most of all… to being loved and, to love.

Shared with G-Man’s Friday Flash 55

Tears of a Rose

Reflections dance here and there
across the waters pure
luring thoughts to once was love
of a butterfly
capricious in mood
…so flighty.

Love never says goodbye.

Passion showed in the reddest
red glow of heart’s and soul’s
on fire
every word and every line
a flame of deep desire.

hunger grows a chasm
a great divide
words now relegated to a
place of shrugged indifference

and, what of joy and sorrow
each a part of yesterday
(God grant there’ll be a tomorrow)
to get it right, again.

To ride the crest of waves
turn circles in a sea of air

watch lips open
… expectant

while petals await their first kiss of dew
to present them as gifts
from the heart
bequeathed as tears of a rose.


© Daydreamertoo   *All rights reserved

 Shared with Poets United Thursday Think Tank #68 Red


God given talent
(or not)
we humans place others
on pedestals.

Build them up.
Turn them into superstars.

Cherish each word
each gesture
each appearance they make
with a guarantee to put yet more
dollar signs in their eyes
along with stars
until they begin to really believe
they’re invincible and can
walk on water.

how quickly the American dream
can become a full-fledged nightmare.
A nauseating nausea of
drugs, sex, anorexia
and plastic faces paid for
with plastic money

Until one day their star
begins to wane.
They displease us
and, fickle…
we move onto the next
new idol’s name, so we can
build them up
ready to shoot them
down in flames.


© Daydreamertoo   *All rights reserved

This is just some thoughts on how all the fame and fortune in the world, doesn’t bring real happiness. We humans are so fickle. What we love one day, we’ll throw away the next and move onto something new. In making them superstars they leave the people behind who would tell them ‘No, you can’t” and become surrounded by ‘Yes men.’ People who give them what they want because they want and they’re never told ‘No, it isn’t right to do this’ anymore. Because they have so much money and are chased everywhere they go, they then isolate themselves and begin to lose touch with reality. Turn to drink, drugs, to keep them on a high so they can perform. Have sex thrown at them, on a plate.
Yes, they lose touch with what is the true reality of the world.
The American dream isn’t such a wonderful thing for a lot of superstars in the end, really.

Shared with Three word Wednesday CCLX

Space and Time

Thoughts quietly take to flight
given their wings
are now timeless and free to paint
their own canvas in an endless sky.

Seasons change with gracious days as
souls that open to love expand beyond
all obstacles in their way.

There are none so wise as those
who know
they know nothing.

Each breath
Each tear
Each thought

A silent wish or, prayer
carried on gentle sighs
to where eternity bears a name
in unbreakable forms
of testimony.

All around us

there are undying legacies to its cause
no matter the space between words
no matter the depth between lines.


© Daydreamertoo   *All rights reserved

Shared with dVerese Poets OpenlinkNight #11


A lone drum beats
matching the rhythm of my heart
touches the deepest part
with its sensual call.

Someone, somewhere
is writing a new history
in hues of black or blue
and, stone too, in time
will unfold the legend.

Those were the days my
friend, when memories fade
but love will always
find you.

Eyes meet as souls greet
with an old familiarity
As if they’ve loved before
in other lifetimes so
long ago and far away.

Time flies but nothing is
ever really left unsaid

No matter how ancient
from beginning to end

We learn if we listen
with our heart

There is no language
or legend
that cannot be read.


Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with Poetry Picnic #6
Carry on Tuesday #124

The Time Machine

This was no accident he was here by his own design and, expecting some sort of action whilst sat in his latest contraption.
He pushed  a lever forward, engaging both clutch and gears feeling the motor spin into motion… he would soon move through the years.
The engine first spluttered and… flustered, he watched the dial begin at 1900 then climb up steadily through a decade and more. To be sure he could believe his own eyes a look through his window, sees him espy passers-by  some jostle in their rush, others strolling deep in their chat.  He was on the outside looking into another world. Pushing the lever forward again, he watched as the mannequin in the shop window opposite was dressed in many different styles as the years advanced, occasionally outrageous fashions yet, he remained entranced… as time, for him, marched on.

‘The Time Machine’ was written by H. G. Wells in 1895. Very forward thinking for that time.
It tells the story of an inventor in Victorian England constructs a time-travelling machine which he uses to travel to the future. There was a movie made in 1960 with Rod Taylor, Alan Young and Yvette Mimieux.
Another was made in 2002 with Guy Pierce in the lead role which was directed by Simon Wells, the author’s great-grandson. I’m not too sure I’d want to time travel in that old chair but, it is pretty Victorian looking.

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #23

Smoke & Mirrors

Although we see with our eyes
often we refuse to see that which
doesn’t please
But mirrors never lie
no, mirrors never lie.

A heart of glass
shattered from the resonance
of silence
created a thousand pieces
message in each shape
crystal clear
yes crystal clear
and, each piece cuts as clean.

A soul reached through a
fog of smoke and mirrors
to touch another who
wasn’t in the same place
sometimes trust has to fly
yes, trust has to fly on, with
broken wings.


© Daydreamertoo    *All rights reserved

Not too sure I did this right, the prompt was about repetition with words or lines.
Hope it fits the prompt. It isn’t about any person or any one thing in particular, just some jumbled thoughts.

Shared with dVerse Poets: Say it again, Sam, Poetics

Two for One on Rain

Too much, and you’re a curse. Not enough, and your presence is prayed for.
Splish, splash, splosh.
Always loved the gentle rains, not so much when you’re cold as ice, just a nice soft rain that falls upon my cheeks or, window pane.
You can rain on my parade anytime. I promise, I won’t mind.

Shared with G-Man’s Flash 55


Walking in the rain
in a daydreamers mind
the gentle rains of autumn
I call my
‘peaceful kind.’

Puddles at my feet
stirring ripples in the heart
liquid drops of thought
swelling rivers in my eyes
trickle out to greet those
falling from the

Footstep follows footstep
soft rain soaks and seeps
into the sadness within.

Letting go the ties of love
is so very hard to do
especially when you loved
a friend…
as I, my friend
…loved you.

Peaceful walk in a soft fall rain
each tiny tear
drops of liquid pain.

But I can see you now
chastising my sorrow.

I smile, wipe my eyes and
bless this much loved rain
for I’m sure it’s the angels
weeping too, so pleased
they are at meeting

Water is Life and…

I feel ‘you’ in the rain.


© Daydreamertoo    *All rights reserved


I wrote this a long time ago when one of my Aunt’s second husband died.  He was a good friend and, I loved him.
Shared with Poets United Thursday think Tank Prompt #67 Rain

Beauty is the Beast

She basks in glory of the mid-day sun
and with freedom to enjoy the same
sprawls out along the water’s edge
reflecting more than name.

So serene…

Grace inherited from the ancients
she needs no reminder of her beauty
for she knows she is a

Kings have bowed before her majesty
and walked right by
her side..
For she is power…
She is might…
and in full flight, she’s deadly.

Tiger, perfect tiger.

God must have wanted you
this way ..

For no-one else could paint
your lines in such unique array.

You are a shinning beacon
of what true beauty is.
Helen ‘launched’ a thousand ships
but you have a history of captured
hearts that have loved you just the same.
Why….your very name brings tears
to a faithfull lovers eyes.

No wonder you sprawl and seem
even to smile when you do not
know the cost in lives your kind
has lost to your perfection.

Gazing at your reflection
in peace
every inch of you
a queen.

Ohh tiger…perfect tiger….
So perfectly devine

I weep upon your beauty
at once a blessing and a curse
as you, yourself, lay complete in
in such sweet repose, and think…

This land is


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved


Author’s note:
I don’t think anyone can better the poet William Blake’s famous piece ‘Tiger, Tiger’ for it’s perfect descriptions of this beautiful creature but I’ve written about the Tiger before and probably will do so many more times too because, I believe that it is one of the most perfect of all Earths creatures and that we need to do what we can to preserve what is left of their numbers before they become just a picture in a book or a short video clip. I do what little I can to help these and others of our endangered fellow Earth inhabitants in small ways.
 Do you?…

Shared with Imaginary garden with real toads

A Rare Mood

Eventually daybreak awoke with a yawn
sun, too lazy yet to push
cloud cover off
and shine.

It would be a dull day.
And, one of those days when
you too, refuse to shine.

What a rare mood to find
tucked away amidst the grey
but, within the blink of an eye
(diva on center-stage)
she entered the race, chased
the moon and its gown of clouds away
to take her throne in the sky.

© Daydreamertoo   *All rights reserved

Shared with Three Word Wednesday CCL1X


An autumn breeze came
blowing in across my thoughts
Lingered there, ruffled my hair as
I continued to walk my walk.

Ask me how I feel.
No don’t, for I may yet tell.

The knowing hurts
the not knowing
…even more.

It’s the living years
you see.
Oh, yes those living years.
The ones we feel the most
because we keep their tears
for souvenirs
On days like these
as memory fades
a breeze arrives gently
to remind.


© Daydreamertoo         *All rights reserved

Shared with dVersePoets Openlinknight #10

The Growing Heart

She took me to places
I hadn’t before been.
Showed me a new heart
that I had never

The heart beat slow
So used to its
rhythm and rhyme.

Suspended, there it
hung, doing nothing
but beat out its

Slowly buds appeared
then blossomed into view
watered by her love
and tears and, just
like a rose,
it grew.

She spoke softly to
it often.
Told it many wonderous
things, and as the new
heart listened it responded
to her in kind, by giving
out a fragrance, I myself
could never find.

She told the heart she’d
waited a lifetime
holding onto a dream
that she would find her
soulmate, the one whose
always been there,
but was ’til now

The heart opened up
fully and let her love
flow in.
Accepted and responded
unconditionally forgiving
her past sins.

It heard the words
‘I love you’
Spoken many, many times
and, I know the heart so
well by now


The heart that grew

Was Mine.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with Gooseberry Garden #week 5 Object

Andy Whitfield Spartacus

Warning: The Video clip contains graphic violence and bloodshed.

Like sheep to the slaughter they thread their way though
the stench of a piss-sodden corridor
(this surely was the God’s forsaken underworld)
for all their shouts of bravado and verve what they
were about to do would need nerves of steel.

He thought then of the opal
he’d given his wife
(to the victor go the spoils)
reminded of the omen she’d told him
after hearing her muse foretelling of blood and sand
and, of how he’d dismissed those fears
fingertips placed upon her soft lips
with a yearn then to kiss them… and more.

(He sighed)
love and emotion could play no part
in this day nor any other, until he either died
or was no longer called, slave.

Muscles tensed, honed to perfection from
enforced practice
(both to teach and to strengthen)
he caught sight of his battle-scarred reflection
in the mirror on an opponents shield
and wondered who he truly was
because he didn’t know… not anymore.

The gates opened and a raw stabbing sunlight
almost took him by surprise
now that his wife was no longer alive
he didn’t care if he did kill them all
or if he in turn, died.

Stepping out onto the sand
he thrust his two short swords up in the air
as the crowds in the stands above stood
erupting with an almighty cheer for
Capua’s new champion



© Daydreamertoo       *All rights Reserved

Here’s more about Spartacus There are different stories about this Thracian who at first fought with, was betrayed by, and then fought against, Rome. Was captured, forced into slavery but went on to become a famous gladiator and again led a slaves revolt against his Roman masters. There was a good 1960 movie about him starring Kirk Douglas as the Gladiator but…the video clip above and picture below is

    my way of a small tribute to Andy Whitfield and, to his fine acting skills.
After a hit 2010 Starz TV first series, Andy was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Undergoing treatment they postponed a second series and made a 6 part series (Spartacus: Gods of the Arena) with another actor in a different lead gladiator role while awaiting Andy’s recovery. Having been told he was clear of the cancer, only two months later, it returned and, Andy passed away last week, on Sept 11th. He was only 39 years old and leaves behind a wife and two children.
Of all the roles he played, he will always be best known for the role as, the gladiator hero, Spartacus.  R.I.P. Andy Whitfield.

Shared with The Sunday Whirl Wordle #22

Aung San Suu Kyi of Burma

Reaching through a fettered mist
trying to touch others whose
thoughts were also attuned
she knew

eyes that have no blinds
see truth
false flattery cannot hide behind
its own painted smile reflection.

A glimpse behind the mask
showed a woman with a task
who could not be deterred
and broken but not bowed
she vowed to call for


the powers that be tried their
best to supress
arrested her for calling for
Their message crystal clear
and, would cut as clean.

Defiant through passive resistance
and Nobel Peace compliant
she waged a bloodless war against
corruption and oppression.

For fifteen years out of twenty one
she was under house arrest
denied those rights
we mostly take for granted

Although free to roam in each room
of her home
behind walls of brick
or walls of glass
it still remained her prison.


© Daydreamertoo    *All rights reserved

Inspired by Aung San Suu Kyi also known as Daw Suu by the Burmese (or Amay Suu, lit. “Mother Suu,”) by some followers.
For passively fighting for democracy for her country she has been placed under house arrest on numerous occasions since she began her political career, totalling 15 of the past 21 years. In 1991 Aung San Suu Kyi was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
Her story is one of courage and of determination and is told in many books by many authors, songs and now a new movie just released called ‘The Lady’
Burma is trying to become and, to be seen internationally as a democracy and, she now enjoys her freedom at long last.

I felt this story fitted in with Poets United theme this week of Glass Houses (my thinking was, even a glass house could still be a prison if you were in it under house arrest and also, in the UK it’s what they call a soldier being put into a prison in army terms, as being sent to ‘the glass house’)

Shared with Poets United Thursday Think tank #66 Glass Houses


This Fireman is hilarious
My 55

“I don’t think it even works but, I’ll take a puff or three.” I stated, catagorically.
“Nothing’s happened, I can’t see why all the fuss.”
On the ground under the car to check the muffler for some rust.
Never did know why a huge hole in the exhaust would make me giggle quite as much.

In my early 30’s a friend persuaded me to give ‘weed’ a try. I took a couple of puffs and stated. “Can’t see what all the fuss is about, hasn’t had any effect on me at all.”
Then under the car, I got uncontrollable giggles. Couldn’t for the life of me think why this huge hole in the exhaust was so hilarious.
Then I got the munchies.
Then I got…. (ain’t saying no more)……..Hahaha

Shared with G-Man’s Flash 55