Last night I met a stranger
in the usual place, because
it would be a rare day indeed
if I ever invited a stranger to
our home.

The sun was still quite blinding
even though it was seven ‘O’ clock
so rare to see both beauty and fire.

I asked her to check what I offered
she politely refused because
even though she didn’t know me
she believed what I’d had to say.
I chose to follow her lead and
didn’t open the envelope either.

We live a simple life here on
our small island where
there is still a lot of
something called


© Daydreamertoo              *all rights reserved

I sold another laptop last night around 7pm.  I don’t like having strangers to my house (because coming from a former big city with a lot of nasty crime) I usually arrange to meet them in the car park at a pretty close drive through Tim Horton’s.  They can see the laptop up and running on the battery and they know it goes online or, I wouldn’t be selling it.
The girl I met last night bought her husband/boyfriend and I usually start it all up and let them see it up and running and check it over. Last night she said she didn’t need to see it all running because she trusted me. I in turn returned that trust by not opening the envelope with the cash in it.
Such is our life still here that people are basically very honest. I knew she’d be over the moon with what she’d bought for what I’d charged and had told her so when we chatted on the phone. She must’ve thought so too, because they added an extra $10 bucks.
I was very happy and, I am guessing so were they.

Shared with dVerse Poets OpenLinkNight #55
Poets United Vice Versa #9 Follow/Lead Usual/rare

Blood Line

Some say it’s fallacy
others though
believe the Knights Templar
fought to protect something
so precious that even today
is still a mystery


numerous books with
various theories abound
about what it was they found
those centuries ago.

Standing at the crossroads
between what is fact or fiction
I teeter on the edge of
wanting to believe
they protect the secret, still
of a Holy Blood Line.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Have all of this guys books and am about 1/4 of the way through his latest ancient artifacts/high tech thriller called: Blood Line, by author James Rollins .
Love a good book 🙂  That is the inspiration for the poem.

Shared with With Real Toads  Open Link Monday
Carry on Tuesday #166  ‘Standing at the crossroads’

Secrets and Dreams

The boy had exceptional talent
as a graffiti street artist
but, his real day job was helping
his dad paint walls of
other people’s well-to-do homes.

He had developed a secret crush
on the daughter of the man’s latest
house they were painting
but she was quite a cut above his means
so, he wrote his wish on a wall
which he’d soon cover with
a lick or two of paint
and only he and his dog
(his best pal)
would share his secret of one day being
‘as-good-as-them’ dreams.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with Magpie Tales #128 Image © Zelco Nedic

Killing Time

The wayward girl was falling
but was too blind to see
and sent out an invitation

The response was quite robust
no-one would ever know
not even the girl.

As she roamed strange streets
so far from home
the ball and chain of life
grew heavy.

People saw the attitude
and if they dared to go as far
..the oddest look akin to
frenzy in her eyes.

Now she was an easy
channel for the pimps
a ruined chalice of despair
too far down the wrong path
to settle for less than the best.

Her invitation quickly accepted
the attack on her was furtive
sublime in execution.
She had no idea it had happened
but, she’d determined there would be
no more living rough for her
under her new pimp’s control
now she’d do more than just
kill time.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

*For some reason the words led me down a dark path this week. Maybe it’s because I just finished reading the Dean Koontz book.

The Sunday Whirl #67
Poets United Pantry #108


Stationed in Wales as a 17 year old
I loved hearing the sing-song acent
of the Welsh people.

We all thought
(bet you’re singing it now, aren’t you)
was a difficult word to say because it’s
such a long word with
34 letters but it’s a word that has no real meaning
apart from a little bit of Mary Poppins Magic
and if you sing it, it isn’t so hard to say.

But on the other hand

Pronounced in English as orthography is given at the station as:
The ch is a voiceless uvular fricative
It is 58 letters and translated it means:
‘St Marys Church in the hollow of the white Hazel
near to the rapid whirlpool of LLantysilio of the red cave.’

So you see,
not only Pat Hatt  Of Rhyme Time can boggle your brain
and turn it to mush…

I determined that I would learn how to say this word all in one go
and, it took me donkey’s ages to do it but
I done it.

If you want to read all about it go: Here and you can scroll down on the right to hear it spoken as it ought to be

So we are not mistOken… this is a very toKen effort on my behalf
to please Anna Montgomery of Chromapoesy who is hosting the dVerse Poets prompt tonight
Hope I got mine.. even a little abstract (awl right) << Cockney speak

Very tongue in cheek effort

Shared wiv dVerse Poets Logophilia 2

Cool Clear Water

I came into existence
because there was a need
and because I am aware of
who and what I am.

I’ve taken on many shapes and forms
from the moment I was born
I suit, to suit all seasons.

At my purest I am
nectar to those lips which thirst.

There are times I am meek and mild
and the sun’s heat does its best to destroy

I can travel anywhere at will
(if I so chose)
from slow, slow trickle to
gigantic Niagara spill.

I can also be an ice-cold queen
and, maybe you will never see
the hidden depths I breathe.

Yet now,
Yes now
my life begins to wane
for, most of the older sane
no longer inhabit this planet
and I am being poisoned
day by day by the insane ones
who remain.

Yes, yes I am water, very much alive
and therefore,  I can die.
But, I cannot stop the madness
I cry, and cry, and cry
cool, clear, water.


© Daydreamertoo     *All rights reserved

For some unknown reason, I have always believed that water is very much, alive. Not just the life it contains but, the actual water itself.
Masaru Emoto   Has carried out studies to prove his theory that water reacts to its surrounding mood, by forming either pretty or ugly shapes when frozen depending on what mood it is first subjected to. I’d like to believe what he says his findings are but, for as many who do believe, his theories and tests cannot be properly confirmed.
I’ve also thought for the past 25 odd years that fresh water is the next thing (after oil) that many wars will be fought over, with the increase in drought through climate change happening all around the world. I can see it start happening within the next few years.
The prompt called for us to become what we wanted to write about and, because I love it, I became the water

Shared with With real Toads Transforming Fridays

What the night knows

Spooked I tell you, spooked. First time I’ve ever read a book that left me feeling spooked.
I’ve read a few of his: ‘The Taking, Odd Thomas, The Frankenstein books one and two but this one I just read, had to read mostly before it got dark, because it left me feeling so uneasy, spooked!


I began reading Dean Koontz novels a few years ago because someone told me although he writes horror, he always ends with good triumphing over evil and seeing so many of his books being sold, was curious as to what he was about. Sure enough, I read ‘The Taking’ which is a modern day tale based on Noah and the Great Flood or, could be, The Rapture. Whichever, it’s a mass clearing of all the corrupt/bad/evil in the world, leaving only the children and innocent adults behind to help raise them. Amazing, gripping read.

This latest book, I finished yesterday, although love and goodness triumphed in the end… I was quite gobsmacked at the story. I’m usually pretty level headed, but had to stop reading it at night time because it left me feeling quite … yikes…lol.

What the night knows << Review

Shared with G-Man’s Friday Flash 55

Zen Balance

Once clouds in my eyes blocked
the silvery burst I’d see at night
Life’s sweet, sweet music went unheard
and dust in the wind
made the river cry


after the storms took a gliding swan-dive
she shone through all the veils
she wore protecting her modesty

Her halo embraced me as I walked
back out of a muted fog
One in which I couldn’t see
back into the balanced clearing
back into clarity.

I was going home to where
my heart has room to love and
many more rooms to spare.

We live in mysterious ways
and don’t need for spells to
be broken.

The ship of dreams I sail upon
is as clear in vision as a peel of
church bells

Life, is ever changing.

Sands upon the shore
wander by night and day alike.

I have to be this free
have to be me
Was born to fly high
where not only the wind
can breathe.

No matter where I am
Earth’s beat will always find me
come wind, and rain or hell-fire
I am myself
the journey home.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with dVerse Poets  Poetics: Balance
Poets United Thursday Think Tank #107 Sound

Book of Spells

As a child he was taught by
learned masters never to endanger
other lives except for those
whose evil was to do nothing
but destroy.

The boy became the man
and cut quite a dazzling display
for all the young maidens at court
his mind was filled with magic
and, too many things to hazard
or allow his heart to fall
beneath loves own enchanting spell.

He would deny himself
until the day Arthur was
crowned king
then well,
maybe if a maiden would give
a gentle look
maybe then…

He gave out a harsh sounding sigh
chiding himself for allowing his
mind to stray.

The candle flickered to remind
we are all here for just a shadow of time
how long for, no-one could say
not even a wizard.

With that in mind
he dipped his quill back into the ink
and continued to write his latest
in the book of spells.


© Daydreamertoo              *All rights reserved

Shared with Three Word Wednesday CCLXXXII # Cut, Endanger, Hazard
Poetry Jam Magic
Poets United Vice Versa #8 Allow/Deny Harsh/Gentle


I have these visions

Visions of loveliness.

A peaceful walk
in soft fall rain

(Yes, they soon will come again)

‘Til then,
I yield all that I am
into silent wonder
creating words from a soul
that still reaches for
…the reason

I trust

and even raw, laid bare
see visions of loveliness.

The air I breathed today

So clear
So fresh
So clean


The sand where no other footsteps have
fallen today…bar mine.

Yes, I see visions of loveliness
In glass I’ve gathered from the giving sea
and keep or send to delight others
friends, who share my path

Feel its sensual smoothness
in shapes that heighten pleasure
with rainbows added to
further delight senses
with these, nature’s gifts

Can I…

Will I…

a future life
from all of this.

We live on our own
little piece of Heaven
here on Earth

Where magic happens
if you have the will to surrender

Simply let life flow and, follow
where it leads.

In a world of love
I’m surrounded


See visions of loveliness
which I feel such a need

…to share.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Before we (a much younger Chloe, Timmy-the-dog and, I) moved into town, we used to collect beach glass on our daily walks. Finding blue was rare and became the prized treasure. “Found a bit of blu hoooo” became our favourite shout while walking the beach. lol
I began to make jewelry from it. Those in the picture are some of the early attempts at wire-wrapping and such. But, we have jars and jars of it and when the sun shines on and through them, we see rainbows everywhere. Creating some magic from, what is essentially, someone else’s garbage from (thrown overboard from all the old sail ships from the 17-1800’s passing through the Northumberland Strait.

Shared with dVerse Poets OpenLinkNight #54

Stronger than Time

Run when you can
walk if you have to
crawl if you must
never give up on your dreams.

Emotions complicate everything
life itself is so simple, really.

Nothing is free but our own thoughts
and, the air we breathe

My thoughts take me on walks
through dark and light.
To places I may never go
yet will, in mind.

Where stars await
nights happenstance
love is stronger than time.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with With Real Toads  Open Link Monday
Carry on Tuesday #165


© Franz Kiline Figure eight, 1952

On wings of mo(u)rning
she flew in from infinity
turning circles of eight
in a restless sky.
Rays of hope filtered through
her feathered rustlings
there is no escape
when destiny calls.

The soul awaited
it was soon to be their time
No-one saw the raven arrive
except the one for whom she came.

With a swift downward rush
she swooped below to where
the soul was reaching up to greet.

Gathered all around the bed
emotional… people cried
The spiritual raven’s wings enfolded
as the soul gave out one final gasp
then, smiled
Its light now free at last
and for those that remained was the



© Daydreamertoo          *All rights reserved

*For some reason the painting reminded me of a black bird’s feathers, either a crow, raven, or some such. It also made me think of feathers we see laying on the ground and wonder how they come to be there. Also, in some cultures how they are seen as ill omens and symbols of death arriving. I wanted to write about that but, not in a sad way because (to some) death can be a happy release too. So, I wanted to show the bird as a good thing, not bad.

Shared with Magpie Tales #127 Abstract Art of Franz Kiline Figure eight, 1952
Poets United Pantry #107

Wishful Thinking

In marble halls
inside marble walls
everything is rosy
her life is pristine

She silently reposes
in melancholy mood-swing
endlessly supposes.

All that glitters is not gold
Does she really have it all?

She waves the fan
wafts a spray of air
acutely aware the slightest
lift of a hand would see
her every whim fulfilled by
those tasked to give her
most royal majesty whatever
she asks, or indeed…

But yet…she yearns.

She sees another world
out there, beyond the cover of those
sterile walls which hold it all but are
so lacking in warmth and love.

The book of powders that she reads
to make a face both glow or pale doesn’t
captivate a mind whose senses need
to feel erotic breath in all
colours of a life that’s lived
…..not governed.

Her thoughts stray
as the water draws her into its
constant energy and flow but
now they tend to go beyond
this musical contemplation.

Calling to her heart, she knows life
is in every beautiful thing to be
seen there, blossoming in those
grasses and gardens of another heart that
beats and breathes without the
need or care to impress a
mighty crown.

One day…

Will she find the courage to
fling down the book…
and take the first step across
a bridge of hope that divides
the rich but sterile from
the living true.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #66


Timmy 2011

He waits, impatient
turning circles or, pacing
as I’m preparing it
smacks his lips after the feast
of fresh boiled chicken and kibble
(very delicate tummy, you see)
and, hunger satisfied

I want him to digest
so lift him up to his blanket
(bad back, mustn’t jump at all)
on the couch where he sits for
a minute or two
then, in slow motion quietly
slinks himself in alongside of me
to snuggle up for a cuddle.

Petting him a while so he
knows the touch of love
I then focus on three things.

One is my own
always something to do on it
keeping me busy
another two that I bought
being worked on, cleaned, upgraded
formatted, re-programmed, updated
and, hopefully both sold today.

Someone once said
‘Find what you love to do and
you’ll never work a day in your life’

Along with first love
computers are my buzz
my some thing


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Along with his delicate tummy, he has several calcified discs in a couple of areas of his spine. He’s not supposed to jump up or down at all. Very difficult to stop a pet from jumping though. But, the vet told me she’s seen dogs with his condition fine and running around happy one minute and, something in their spine ‘pop’s and they are then paralyzed for life. So, I try to barricade the couches with books and cushions to make sure he can’t jump up but, it’s a lot easier said than done if someone arrives unexpectedly. He’s up and running and jumps off the couch before I can grab a hold of him. But, if he can’t sit by me, he cries…. Bless him.
Love my little dog Timmy to bits 🙂

Shared with dVerse Poets Poetics:

The Devil’s Angel

There’s a devil on my left
complete with horns
blood-red eyes and
sharply pointed tail.

He makes me sail close to
the wind
taunting me to
commit some sin.
He’s got his claws dug in
there deep
keeps on trying without end.

Puts me to the test
never lets me rest.

But I know he’s there….
…..whispering in my ear.

He tries his level best to
take my thoughts and deeds where
they really ought not to go


When he gets that bad and
I’m filled with doubt
wondering whether to
walk his black-hearted road
just to ease the heaviness of
my ‘living’ load
that’s when
I turn to the Angel on my right
because, she always guides me
back toward the light.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with With Real Toads Devils