It must be time for lunch now. Woodman New York 1979

Mom told us to hide
anywhere we could
because each week she knew
that he would do it.

We hid behind the couch
we hid behind a chair
hid behind anything
so when he got fed up of banging
and stared through the letterbox
he wouldn’t see us there.

We thought it such a game.

She always told us to be silent
not to say a word
because if the rent man heard us
he’d get even angrier and
shout threats
of police and of eviction

So she whispered to us
over and over
not to say a thing


our stomachs still insisted
on doing all the talking.


© Daydreamertoo        *All rights reserved

*True story and, frequently all we had to eat was bread and gravy but, we can be victims all of our lives or, we can determine to lift ourselves up from it. Education is the key. Hunger is not just in other countries, it’s in yours, mine, everywhere.

Shared with Magpie Tales #137 It Must Be Time For Lunch Now, 1979, by Francesca Woodman


Coloured cloth flaps with a tenderness of breeze
and sweet smell of incense is carried in the air.
Chants and prayers continue uninterrupted
but fear grips a few peasants gathered
Sends them into frenzied scurries of flight.

With neutral ambivalence
and still evenly breathing
the holy man approaches the dazed one
hands him a china bowl containing water
which the soldier turns upside down
empties to the ground
whilst still pointing his rifle at him.


© Daydreamertoo     *All rights reserved

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #76
Poets United Pantry #117

Victor Victoria

I saw your smile through
the glass
gave it back with widest beam
for I care
even though we are little more
than strangers passing by
who say “Hi.”

You have so much past history.
So many stories you have told.


I’m still living mine, of
which you are now part.

Behind the happy smile
as our eyes met
your loneliess reached in
and matched my own.
Took me back to sadness
but, you carry your pains
with such a dignified

And as your light on Earth grows dim

I wonder…

Will I ever see that smile again
all too aware that you will never
know I shared such empathy
with you today.


© Dydreamertoo All rights reserved

This is a bit long winded but, needs to be to explain who this is.
Cat and I were in a superstore one day in our local town when an elderly man (in his 80’s) began talking to us and it was clear right away he was one of lifes rich characters.
He introduced himself as Victor/Victoria with a huge smile and a great deal of pride. Told us he used to be in amatuer dramatics and pantomime in which he was often cast as the ‘Dame’ hence, the nick-name Victor/Victoria and, for more than 25 years he played the part of Santa Claus in the superstore during the weeks running up to Christmas. The kids grew up and then their own kids, all visited him as Santa.

Victor/Victoria knows everyone, and everyone knows Victor/Victoria.
He walks, and walks, not really going anywhere, he just likes to be outdoors and trying to keep fit.

One time when I was back in England he saw Cat in the store and remembered me. I was the nice ‘girl’ with the Sweet English accent. Everyone gives Victor badges, he covers his baseball cap and his jackets in badges. This day he handed Cathie one and told her she was to give it to me. It was a badge celebrating 50 years of Queen Elizabeth 2’s reign. I was so touched that he would recall our meeting at all and would want to give me such a lovely gift too.

Next time I saw Victor, I’d gone to the local hospital to get some medical aids ready for Cat coming home from Halifax. Victor was pacing up and down the hallway. He was an in patient. He looked ghostly white but, soon as he saw me, the smile was there.
He told me he was having problems breathing because his heart’s not right, but he insisted, he would be fine and I joked with him and told him he’d probably outlive us all.

I saw him a few winters ago, even in the snow, still walking the main street, waving and smiling at nearly every car which tooted as it passed him by, including me.

I was at Tim Horton’s a while after that, passing through the drive through for a coffee and Victor was sitting inside eating. He looked much thinner and very frail. He saw me through the window, picked up his napkin, smiled and waved it to me. I smiled back and gave him the ‘thumbs up’ sign.

Although we’d smiled, for that moment, I was overwhelmed with such a sudden sadness. I will miss Victor/Victoria when his time comes to walk on fresh new ground.

Victor/Victoria is such a gentle, gentleman.

We’ve moved to town since then and I have no idea if Victor/Victoria is still with us. If he isn’t then, I’m sure he’s with the Angels.

Shared with dVerse Poets Poetics: 6 billion others

The Keeper

Ever silent vigil
‘neath a consipirators sky
no-one escapes her notice
through unblinking eyes.

The crescent moon bears witness
to her steady gaze….
amazed at her tenacity
and, consistent ways.

Sleek and quite unique
she’s always there on guard
hid amid the branches of
life’s tree….
(Her claws and paw prints
carved forever in those
swirling wooden circles of
nature’s history)

The wheels of time spin
on and on but who she is
and from whence she comes
remains her tale to tell.

I never knew she was there before
never saw those eyes
but, always felt the presence
of someone wiser than my
own foolish mind would
admit to caring too.


I can see forever in a
single glance, as she focuses
her mind on me
…the object of her love.

She came from my past into
these present times to
guard my fears…my worries
with her steady gaze and see me
through the troubles and trials of
these hardest living

She is a sleek and constant watcher
who made a ‘broken’ me feel whole.
She is the guardian of my life
feline….keeper of my soul.


© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

Shared with With Real Toads Do you believe in Magic
(Yes, I do and in miracles too)


Google images

Our cell numbers were showing unknown number. Called technical support. Told him Chloe uses hers for mainly text messaging and BBM. I backed up her phone in case she lost her messages and said that she’d sent over 1,300 in less than 2 weeks
He giggled and said “Oh my”

No wonder she wanted unlimited!


When we first got our cell phones the SIM cards would not take our numbers for some reason. It didn’t bug Chloe but it bugged me that no-one knew it was me calling them. So, I called tech support and we chatted as he tried to find a fix for the problem. We got around to discussing Chloe’s texting… he really giggled when I said how many texts she’d sent in such a short time. Thank goodness I had thought to put ‘rules’ in place about times during the day and what time of night she can be on there until or, it would probably be in the millions by now.

We are creating our own technological Frankenstein monsters…*rolls eyes* LOL

Shared with G-Man’s  Friday Flash 55

Cento Poetry

Much have I traveled in the realms of gold
and many goodly states and kingdoms seen


What immortal hand or eye could frame
thy fearful symmetry.

Hail to thee blithe spirit


How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day


I wandered lonely as a cloud

So, do not go gentle into that good night
because I could not stop for death
He kindly stopped for me
the owl and the pussycat went to sea.


© Daydreamertoo       *All rights reserved

Poets in order:
John Keats, William Blake, Shelly, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, William Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Dylan Thomas, Emily Dickinson, Edward Lear

Stuff and nonsense by yours truly… 🙂

Shared with dVerse Poets Form for all Collage and the art of Cento


How simple
life really is
if we have the chance to
make it so.

I don’t want much
there are no rough edges
on the colours of my need

it’s smooth, smooth, smooth.

Say the words I want to feel
and not those words I hear
in the silence of a heart
that waits again to share
peels of joy and laughter.

Tick tock, tick tock
that blessed clock I love to hate
beats out its measured time
reminding me

I too have numbered days.

I see creeping grey
and know its stealth in a
new wealth of historys lines

The chill of autumn
sits upon my tongue
and I savor the earthy taste
from the passion of a dream.

I don’t want to walk a maze
for life

want to be


I’ve had enough of lifes
rough edges

when they cut

they cut too deep and hurt too
much to try and stem the rush
of gushing blood in painful tides

so much

I wished to run and hide myself
away and never know
such pain again


without the pain
there would never be a bliss

No salvation from a
lovers kiss to thrill

to fill those aching wounds
and entice them back
to smoothness.


How Simple

all I want from life is



© Daydreamertoo        *All rights reserved


Shared with Three Word Wednesday CCXC1 Chance, Entice, Savor
Poetry Jam Arts Gonna Art

Tryst with Destiny

© A wooded path in autumn Brendekilde

Mist comes down but
she walked through her own
clouds of trepidation
on crisp, crackling leaves
which played their last musical
notes underfoot.

She waits on the seat
serene and still in Autumn’s chill.
Her romantic tryst with destiny
has as yet, to be.

She hasn’t cheated on her husband
nor betrayed family
but when he is cold, sterile
and new eyes engage, sparkle
The heart begins to breathe once more
and play impromptu rhythms.

Life isn’t about what happens to you
it’s about how you handle it.

At last after years of marital suppression
after years of being taken for granted
maybe she waits for the comfort
of true love.

And yet
…and yet.


© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

Shared with Carry on Tuesday #174 Life isn’t about what happens to you
dVersePoetsOpenLinkNight #63


festival of the Roman God of fire
occurred just the day before

People traveled to the town with
their precious bundles of gifts
Offerings to please this God and
ask that their corn, still in its husk
and other crops, would not be burned
by summer heat.

The air was damp, heavy as
a storm approached and lightening
flashed in streaks across the sky
if only they had known so much worse
would soon follow.

It began with a low rumbling
and then the ground shook
so violent, it seemed that all
four corners of the world had their
bolts ripped out and were being
folded in by an angry God
as the temperature rapidly climbed

Suddenly Vesusvius erupted
spouting out her fire and rocks
high into the sky.

Taken by surprise
many were instantly trapped
and died in a flash as the volcano
rained down a mountain of ash
’til nothing of Pompeii remained.


© Daydreamertoo   *All rights reserved

* This is where the wordle words took me this week. The word ‘Ash’ did it.
The Vulcanalia  annual festival was an event to try to please the Roman God Vulcan. He was ironically, the God of volcanoes too. It was with the hope that during the hot summer months, their crops wouldn’t catch fire from the heat of the sun. This festival supposedly occurred the day before Vesuvius erupted. Didn’t help to save Pompeii though. Apparently Pompeii was buried under about 10 feet of volcanic ash.

Shared with The Sunday Whirl # 75
Poets United  Pantry #116

The Sign

Google images

I woke to face another gloomy day
waited for sunrise to set the clouds on fire
A bird squawked its solitary call
as if joining me in this reverie.

Despite such wretchedness of mood
my mind insists on embracing the unexpected
as the day gets underway.

Driving to the store all too soon
another gray gloom descended
and rain played a symphony
with wipers on the screen.

Talking to you
(weeping with the rain)
to no-one
to anyone in the ether
who would hear

in desperation
I said aloud:
‘Send me a sign so I know
I’m not alone
Not talking to thin air.”

No sooner had the words
left my lips
right ahead appeared
a sign

In the midst of the dark
despondency and gloom

You sent a rainbow.

© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

*This happened a few weeks after my later partner had passed away.

Shared with dVerse Poets Poetics: The Unexpected

Never Again

 People use fences for different reasons.
To keep something safe within, or

For something far more sinister

As a child we were taught, and shown
barbed wire fences with masses of people
behind them
Eyes sunken, hollow, dead yet, still moving
dressed in striped pajamas
men, women and children
all wearing skin over bones.

I listened as the world said:
‘Never again’
and, totally believed it
until I saw those fences again in Bosnia
men gathered behind them beaten
skin and bones
sunken eyes, ribs all showing
speaking of brutal injustices
to them and to their women

and I cried

because I knew
nothing had changed

and because of man’s inhumanity to man
it will keep happening
again, again and again.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

*This fence has never left my mind.
Because of being closer to Europe the Bosnian/Serb/Croatian war  1992-95 was given a lot of news coverage on UK TV. When I saw the live footage of this guy in a Bosnian/Serb camp…I cried. Although the Bosnian Serbs denied it was a concentration camp it sure looked like one to me and to everyone else.  I had always believed that after the mass genocide of the second world war it would never be allowed to happen again and yet, there it was.
Yes, I wept for the loss of sanity, compassion and love of fellow man.

Shared with With Real Toads Mary’s Mixed Bag: Fences

Older than time

Chloe had a music assignment. She had to answer questions about the 1950’s and research what TV shows were popular then, what actors, best movies, what type of songs and the names of some singers or groups famous then too. She recently heard ‘The King’ and then came the insult:
“You’re older than Elvis, right?”

Sometimes I think she thinks I’m older than time itself….LOL

Shared with G-Man’s Friday Flash 55


Soft light which glows silver
shimmers across those
pathways in my mind.

Flow steady and I’ll follow
where you lead
for, I find peace in the
music of your sway.

Take me to the solitude
of quiet coves
Safe harbours for fragile hearts
which ache for simplicity.

What joy you bring to this soul
when seeking harmony


freedom of flight
to go anywhere that I please
even those places
I oft times fear
to dwell

truth to tell

I love your blessed sanctuary

Soft music
moon over water
what more could be
wished for.


© Daydreamertoo     *All rights reserved

Shared with dVerse Poets Meeting the Bar: Beautiful Solitude

Against all Odds

As a child all that was known
was hurt and betrayal
So many strangers, absolute fear
till fear itself was champion.

A mind full of doubt, mistrust
utter chaos of dark paths
and night terrors
with only one clear goal
…to escape.

I hated the world
my life
and most of the people in it
who took away my childhood
my innocence and trust
met other haters and didn’t
like what I saw
determined not to fall into
the repeating cycle and become
filled with only bitterness
set out to fill my mind with
knowledge because, knowledge
is power.

To learn as much as I could
from books, from people
from anyone and anything who
knew so much more than I
about what life is really
supposed to be.

Like a sponge that could never
have its fill
I learn something new
every day…still.

There’s no comfort in hate
no satisfaction in holding onto
anger which simply destroys the
heart which feeds it
instead I chose the way of love
To fill my mind with only that
and nestle into the soft compassion of
its pure white light and energy.

We are all sinners
each and everyone of us
‘What we think is what
we become.’

Instead of being a victim
I chose instead, to become…. me.

You get back what you give out

this is our Karma.


© Daydreamertoo     *All rights reserved

As a young teen I was so angry at the world, even angry with my mother for the dreadful childhoods we had. Til I met a whole load more angry young people just like me in the army and realised, I wasn’t the only one who ever suffered and, didn’t want to hate the world, I just needed to discover what life had made of me thus far and to learn that because ‘this’ has happened it did not mean ‘that’ (hate)  had to happen as a consequence.
All of our lives we are growing, learning, teaching, and we never stop day by day. We shape our lives by the choices we make good or, bad.

Shared with Three Word Wednesday CCXC Absolute, Fall, Nestle
Poetry Jam Take a much closer look (at something) I took a look at myself…haha

Between the Lines

There is so much unsaid
in the margins and
between the lines
It looks like blank paper
yet, isn’t


if we use the other side of it
have we already turned our backs
on the past in that tiny particular move.

Beyond the blue, black and white
what’s drawn me to you for
more than a little while
yes, so much more than a
little while
(a whole lifetime it seems)
is that endless need to feed
a hungry quest

To see those  unsullied blank lines
fill them full of rich imaginings
and maybe then
the tree which gave up its life
will not have died in vain.


© Daydreamertoo              *All rights reserved

Shared with Carry on Tuesday #173 ‘A little while’
dVersePoets OpenLinkNight #62