Free Thought

thoughtI hurl new fresh bursts of thought
into the air
it seemed a good idea to let it go
it’s rare they return so insistent
upon remaining through that sweet release
but, the mind is such an enigma

Sometimes full of rapid-fire sparks
which clench, spasm but then sorted
and sifted free the burdens we carry
for it to become spacious once more.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo             *All rights reserved

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #88
Poets United Pantry #129

Rain

tumblr_m52hbriJel1rwzae7o1_500I’m listening as it falls
in splats, sploshes and spits
against the glass then, down
into puddles and pools
to eventually drain and begin
the cycle again.

Sometimes a curse when
it shares too much of itself
Sometimes a curse when
doesn’t give enough.

Snow is beautiful as it
falls in silent dance
but, rain has music in all
of its noise.

Magic plays in each
drip-drop, splashing sound
seeps its way into my mind
to share a symphony of
Mother Nature’s blessings.

I’ll never curse the rain
for sharing the gift of
her presence.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo       *All rights reserved

*So far, we’ve had two lots of snow. The last one we’ve had to shovel out from. I love seeing the snow but, hate shoveling, cold and ice too. Today it’s pouring down. 7c above zero but… I’m not complaining at all. 🙂 A White Christmas (for me) belongs on TV these days and, my bones and Timmy (the dog) agree.

Shared with dVerse Poets Poetics: Presents/Presence

A Good Day

mornmist_image (1)A whistling wind whips up everything
including one of my garbage bins.
I hear the clunk, bang, slam
echo through the walls as it crashes
to the frozen ground

but,
the dog still wants his walk
before the snow.
Camouflage jacket in place
the wind’s outrage is no hardship
to him as off he goes.
I hold his retractable leash
and follow, treading softly, slowly
around ice
(left overs from snow the other day)
aware there is more due to arrive.

My teen walks with us to the end
of the road
a quick kiss to the cheek and off
she goes to await her school bus
as Tim and I meander.

Skies are dull, dark white to grey
tree branches dance, writhe, sway
groan and moan to the song of the wind
as I pass a few women
coffee cups in hand
a man espies Timmy
gives a big smile and says:
“Good morning.”
I smile in reply ‘Morning” I say
(knowing he’s right) because
despite the expected snow
I’ll make it a good day.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo    *All rights reserved

Shared with Three Word Wednesday CCCV111 Echo. Hardship. Softly
Poetry Jam A Walk to Inspire

Why

© Copyright 2004 Corbis Corporation
I have
walked through the fires of hell
left its ash behind in random new footsteps
going back into other rays of light

been shaken by dreams in distant hills
and valleys of my mind and

resolved to learn from the salt taste of tears
delivered in revelations that
love should have no expectation

and, in all truth
am mysteriously drawn to
answers on the wind
without ever understanding
the question.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo           *All rights reserved

*This is just a scattering of thought as I’m still deeply affected and grieving for the senseless and needless loss
of all those beautiful, innocent lives taken in Sandy Hook

Shared with dverse Poets OepnLinkNight #75

Snow and Ice

mooniceA milky moon unfolded
to lighten a tired sigh
glassy slicks of ice on roads
gives my heart a scary blast
as it rushes over the top
tires avoiding a tragic skid

visibility clears
I itch to get home
and listen to tomorrow’s
forecast.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo          *All rights reserved

*We had snow off and on all day yesterday and had to do shoveling. Got up this morning and, it’s still snowing.
It all looks so beautiful. I hate winter.

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #87
Poets United Pantry #128

Clouds

WISDOM (2)Clouds so low
sometimes it’s hard to breathe
light is fading
or
is the sky falling too.

Eyes watching me
as I watch them swim

A spider
out of place
shifting grains
did I break it’s web
or,
did it catch me
within its spin of
wonder thread.

Weeds choke this land I love
as the sea spews forth her
waste upon the shore

Mountains
I have climbed
now dry, rot and, stinking

But…

nature does what
nature is
and
not even wishful thinking
can stop those waves from
reaching out to clutch
my heart with salt
embracing kiss.

The sun is up there
…somewhere.
I saw her try to flash a smile
for a little while, ’til she too
gave up the ghost and
was gone as an army
of snow clouds
gathered at a pace

Was it the thrill of it all
for them
or
did she leave willing, and now
she’s smiling upon someone
else’s face.

Clouds above my eyes

and…

if the sky should fall
could I still breathe.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo                      *All rights reserved

*A little somber maybe but, (I feel is) apt today

Shared with dVerse PoetsPoetics: Detail to set a scene or create a character

She did it her way

myrepair1myrepairSo, this thing has been taken apart and put back together so many times now, I know where everything goes. It has about six different size screws, need a magnifying glass to see them and, it matters where you place them too. Now, everything works apart from I have to improve the wifi signal strength.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thrilled to bits that I had this in pieces and got it all up and working again. I need a small part which cost about $4.00 to improve the antenna signal but, apart from that….it’s all working fabulously.
I am one happy gadget loving Bren 🙂

Shared with G-Man’s Friday Flash 55

Star Child

StarChild1Child of the stars
reaching for the light
darling of the Gods
eyes so big, so bright.

Don’t settle for the Earth
nor sorry tales of woe
onward….ever onward
you must strive to reach
your goals.

Naked you arrived with
the gift of forward sight.
You know you own the future
it is yours by right.

What stories you could tell
if never taught to speak
using thought to communicate
history that you keep inside
your mind.

You find such fascination in all
that you survey and yet you
are the miracle in your own
fantastic way.

Universal life is yours from
your given day of birth
but you must learn your value
seek to find your worth.

Eat from the tree of knowledge
grow strong in the name of love
For love is power…
Love is might.
Purest energy of all
the light of love.

Child of the stars
the Gods blessed you this day
and gave you all the light
you need, to help you on
your way.

© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

Shared with dVerse Poets Meeting the bar: Writing in 2nd person

Christmas Past

christmas pudding 008

e04037About aged six in one state-run children’s home
my sister and I went to a huge Christmas party.
It seemed we were late and there were hundreds of kids
(probably about 50)
all seated at joined rows of tables
wearing party hats, shouting, laughing
eating bowls of jelly, trifle and cake.

Suddenly a man arrived, I had never seen before
his name was Father Christmas
(some call him Santa Claus)
and, I thought what he did was magic.

Before Christmas day I walked into the big kitchen
and several grown ups were busy, busy, busy
baking, making an abnormal amount of bunches of things
and, I had never smelled such delicious food before
in all my life.

Some were making sausage rolls
(sausages in pastry)
someone else, sweet-mince pies
another was putting icing onto a
perfectly square Christmas cake
(icing left to dangle from the spout
until it hit just the right spot)

and, in the middle of all the chaos there was
a table and a woman I didn’t know had the
biggest mixing bowl I think I’ve ever seen.

“You want to mix it a little dearie?”
She saw me looking.
“What is it?” I asked, wide eyed.
“It’s going to be a Christmas pudding darlin’.
‘ere…have a little taste.”

My tongue danced across the offered clean spoon
and its content disappeared way too soon.
I tried to stir the mix but, it was so
thick it wouldn’t budge
she gave out a huge belly laugh and said
“This pudding will have some magic in it
maybe you’ll find some on Christmas day.”
I didn’t know what she meant, but, I went on my way.

When it finally arrived, the kids and I were quite stuffed on
all that lavish food but, even to this day
I remember her laugh, her mixing and the magic
as I found a silver sixpence in the pudding
she had made.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

In the 1960’s in England it was still traditional for everything to be baked at home and not shop bought ready made. The Christmas Puddings made at home each had several silver sixpences or, silver threepenny pieces in them, and the kids were all warned to really be careful when they ate their puddings….lol

It was the first Christmas I truly remember  knowing it was Christmas.

Shared with Poetry Jam Foods of the season. Great prompt Mary!
Three Word Wednesday CCCV11 Abnormal. Dangle. Lavish

Writing in the Margins

world jumble words[8]Words take shape
in the margins of my mind

in its labyrinths and dusty corners
lurking there behind shadows waiting
to become what they are meant to be

Sometimes wings
which lift, sift, flutter, fly

Sometimes waves which rise up
rage, ripple, roll.

My words sometimes dance
close, rhythmic, heated and sensual
across a waiting page.

Taking shape and form
as soon as they are born

petals in the sun
or, under snow
tremble at the touch
so do my words reflect their joy
when I think of home
knowing there is love.

~*~

© Daydreamertoo           *All rights reserved

*This came about because I saw a question asking people to write where their words for their poetry come from

Shared with dVerse Poets OpenLinkNight #74
Carry on Tuesday #183 When I think of home

Hats Off

be a girl with mind, woman with attitude and a lady with classInnate space expands relentless
rejuvenates rampant stress
each cosmic breath inhales the bland
exhaling endless magic across the
universal spectrum.

Desire and passion race through
waves coast to coast
until they reach their objects.

She was forged from
heat and sweat of love
delicious, delicate love
to which
(now that she is grown)
she too, will take
her hat off.

~*~

©  Daydreamertoo   *All rights reserved

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #86
Poets United Pantry #127

O, Christmas Tree

004Each year they take me apart
lay me in a box
hide the box away under the stairs
forget about me
until it’s ‘that time’
to bring me out again
box, a bit more battered
still smelling sweet from the
pine car freshener they
thought to pin inside
my deepest branches.

They take me out piece by piece
lay me on the floor
in colour coded piles

this bits going here
that bit going there
parts of me growing now
a little worse for wear
but,
I’m still not doing badly
for an artificial tree
and if you don’t believe
then

take a look at me

~*~

© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

 

We put the tree up today and unpacked some of the stuffed Christmas toys and things. More to do but we. and even poor Tim had, had enough for one day.
The tree has been going now for about 15 years. Each year Chloe has gone from adding one unbreakable ornament as a toddler to now helping put the whole thing up, which usually takes us hours…lol

Shared with dVerse Poets Poetics: First person narrative