Doing Time

Dusk played tricks, forming patterns
on the sterile walls
suddenly reminding of the
chain link fence outside.

It was just as well she didn’t
have her pencils or spray cans handy
recipe for disaster to a serial
graffiti artist
she couldn’t resist the urge
to trace her fingers
over those shadows before
they rose too high, beyond
her reach.

Allowed one call
the operator’s voice was dull
empty of emotion as she went
through the essentials to
make the connection.

Reverse charges accepted
she asked her mother if she
could be forgiven
would she please come
and get her out of jail.


© Daydreamertoo    *All rights reserved

*The wordle words seemed to fit this pic to a T. I’ve always thought that not even a prison cell can hold us if our minds are free. Saw that pic on a Facebook page last week and loved it for the same sentiment. True freedom is a state of mind.

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #71
The Poetry Pantry #112

The truth shall set you Free

Sometimes truth is elusive
we convince ourselves something
is right for us when, it isn’t
right for us at all

we hold on even though our
hearts ache from the weight
of repeating the same mistake.

Letting go of love
is the hardest lesson
I’ve learned.

The winding path
between alternate realities
is never simple
but the views are spectacular
if God lights the way
you really believe
the truth shall set you free.


© Daydreamertoo             *All rights reserved

Shared with Imperfect Prose

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Suffer little Children





Conscience weighs heavy. Easier to look the other way but, if we all did that then nothing would change (I silently admonish.) If not now then, in the fullness of time, these crimes will not go unpunished by the ultimate one who judges. She is a child, your child, my child. A mother and father’s daughter. The doctor’s returned to the kitchen. No white hospital walls or wards to work in and coatless, he wears an old woolly sweater with rolled up sleeves to wash blood soaked hands, and prefers to remain anonymous. He wants to stay hidden in shadow for fear of being photographed and become yet another target of this brutal regime. He’s removed the metal from the child’s eyes and shrapnel from other wounds but she is as yet unaware, she may never see again.

I’m quite a news addict and like to try and keep up with news on several different channels of what’s happening around much of the world.
It doesn’t matter what religion you are to feel compassion, empathy, sadness for others suffering. How can any country think themselves just and civilised when they are so willing to torture and kill their own, including their children?
It isn’t up to us to jump in and rescue everyone and yet, seeing a video a few days ago of a young father, wounded, laying next to his 2 year old baby son who had just died from shrapnel wounds which had come through the walls of their home.
It’s all so heart-breaking and I just hope that all these deaths and maiming’s will bring about their freedom before too many more innocents have to die.

What message are these children and, children in all such conflicts, learning.

If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children. Mahatma Gandhi

Shared with The Sunday Whirl #46

No holds Barred

No walls
no room
no doors
can imprison a mind
which thinks itself as free.

From a tentative dying ember
that slip of light called hope
sparks into a flame
builds passion to a fire
that burns from such desire

to live
to breathe
to be.

No cell
no bars
no guards with keys
can prevent determined thought
from breach of their security

No type of captivity can hold a mind
which thinks itself as free.


© Daydreamertoo     *All rights reserved

 *For Jae

Shared with Three word Wednesday CCLX111
ABC wednesday The Letter ‘N’
Thursday Poets Rally #week 54

Freedom Sky

This song has always inspired me to write of the freedom and majesty of an Eagle in flight and, it is the inspiration for the following prose.
I also created the video.



On a day like no other
she opened sleepy eyes
to the hush of all around

there was nothing moving
not even,
silent sound.

A breath of the universe fell
so light from space
to touch with such a softness
the cheek of her up-turned face.

Dawn’s sun kissed distant tree-tops
with the wink of a lazy eye
and there she stood on the
tallest perch, over-looking
earth and sky.

She fluffed
She stretched
She preened herself and gleamed

Lifting feathers to a gentle breeze
she teased them away from wings
that she unfolded very slowly to
ease herself awake
preparing for the journey
she was about to make.

Caught between two worlds
of darkness and of light

To her left, were moon-lit meadows
still held in Lunar’s trance
swaying in intimate movement
of a lover’s sensual dance.

To her right, translucent sunbeams
warmed her naked skin
feathers raised and readied
she welcomed heat to reach those depths within
where memories of a thousand moons
are recalled in mystic dreams
and nothing is impossible
sing the songs of distant streams.

With one long last knowing gaze
she surveyed all that she could see
and with only a leap of faith
she opened majestic wings out wide
and caught a favoured breeze
thereupon, to glide.


Up, up and away she soared
to the freedom of her skies.


© Daydreamer Too

I love being able to let my thoughts just…fly….
Ever since I was a young child, I’ve always dreamed I could fly and know instinctively how it would really feel if I could….who knows, maybe my spirit did…in a past life.
(I guess) We are all as free as we allow our minds to be.

Shared with Poetry Pot Luck, Inspired by a song