I want

ButterflyonhipI want

To feel sunshine on my
back as I go forth into
future times.

I want

to leave dark shadows behind
and bathe in the beautiful light
of universal love.

I want

my ears to hear natures
own sweet music and feel
her notes sweep over
the peace of
my soul.

I want

to be the lightest feather
on the tip of a wing
that soars.

I want

to live as gay and free
as a butterfly dancing
on the hip of
naked life.


©Daydreamer     *All rights reserved

Life should all be so simple…really.

My heart gently weeps

you always leave me softly

One last slow dance in
loves embrace

One kiss before you go
to lips that want you so
to stay but watch you
walk into
the mist of time

from that moment on
….no longer mine.

One final softly whispered sigh
One tear which trickles from
desparing eyes.

Only the moon can hear my
anxious breathing now
her beams and cloak of
diamond stars
my hope
my light
Soft glow guardians of
a lonesome night.

One tortured soul you’ve
left behind.
One restless mind
One love to keep and hold
so dear

And so you sleep….

my heart gently weeps.


©Daydreamer *All rights reserved

Because love… if it’s real…never dies.

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


She closes her eyes
to see everything


becomes still as the great
wheel turns

because magic happens
inside that stillness.

Every rock whispers.
Its molecules vibrating
‘neath the warm glow of
the sun.

Every tree sings out a joy
of life from its roots
to trembling leaves
as all turn to face
the sky

every stream ripples.
Revels in its harmony
with the land.

Every creature lives
its life of gratitudes.

She hears a distant call of
the wolf to its mate

a whoosh of feathers as
an Eagle soars

Silent and still

she hears wisdom of the ancients
calling to her
through whispering winds
which ruffle her hair
tickle her skin
and she wishes
for once
(just once)
everyone could taste
this sweet ambrosia
in all the blessings
which love of life brings.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

Shared with Poets United Think Tank #95 Wishes

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Do Not Disturb

Permission by © Mama Zen Photography

The stars shone in your eyes little
one and now you’ve gone off
some where to dream.
To your world of make

You’ve had a busy day
all your friends came out to play
and you’ve cast some happy
spells down in the garden dell where
all the other faeries dwell in your
world of make believe.

I’ve seen those magic daisy rings
where you skip, dance and sing
on sunbeams hand in hand casting
spells for wishing wells and
granting more wishes to come true
for me and those who believe
in you and your world of make

Beautiful dreamer…
Tiny princess of the fae.
Dream dreams of unicorns and other
mystical things using mushrooms
for a pillow upon which to lay
those tired wings.

Come back again when morning
is due as fresh as those daisies
and with bright shiny new wishes
in the palm of your hand
to grant them all again
with a wave of your
magic wand
and the
land of make believe.


© Daydreamertoo                *All rights reserved

Shared with With real Toads Featuring Mama Zen Photography


So long ago.

Long gone are the days
when as a child I laughed and wept.

I knew a world without walls.
A world that bought new colour and
adventures with every new dawn.

A world in which I was taught
nothing of prejudice
fear was kept in the secret room
that no-one knew of, but me.

(for me)
escaped as weed seeds
blowing in the wind
and if all left the stem
a wish could then be made.

always so beautiful
to me.

Ahh, the bliss of an
perfect world
as seen through the
eyes of a child.


© Daydreamertoo *All rights reserved

I know gardeners curse dandelions but, I personally think they are quite beautiful in their own way.
I have no idea who taught us this, probably our mum but, as a young child, I was taught that these were fairies that needed to be freed and, if we could blow all of the individual seeds off the head of a dandelion (this had to be done in one big breath, or it wouldn’t work) and they all came off, we could have a wish.
We also used to believe that if one fairy was floating in the air by itself and we could catch it, we could have a wish then too but, we had to be so gentle not to damage it and, then set it free to fly on its way again.
(No wonder I became such a dreamer huh!) LOL

Shared with With Real Toads Open Link Monday
Carry on Tuesday #152 When as a child I laughed & cried
Poets United Pantry #96

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The Road to Now

Feelings sink or swim on
emotional roller coaster rides
which rise and fall behind
comforts painted veil.

Sharing secrets with the moon
in coldest gasps of clear nights
in winter reprieve
I sing the song of my heart
to twinkling, silver stars
trying to be close to you
in wishes, prayer
Anything, to take me
‘there’ and never have to

Trust isn’t always a given
and, isn’t with-holding truth
the same as a lie
as a lie, as a lie.

so many hills and valleys
to be traveled
The deepest depths of sadness
the highest heights of joy
unique for each and every
one of us on the
road to now.


© Daydreamertoo      *All rights reserved

Shared with dVersePoets OpnLinkNight #27

Room with a View

Dreams are not as they seem
broken from a twist of fate which
wasn’t sealed at all
left as kisses blown as wishes
up to shooting stars.

In sweet repose
I drift
drawing in the safe of
night’s blanketing illusion
(welcome cloak of invisibility)
to not exist till morn’

while dust settles as sparkles
on someone else’s shores
but, I cannot resist the call of

Opening doors onto another
room with a view.


© Daydreamertoo    *All rights Reserved

Shared with Poetry Picnic Week #16

Time Sighs


drops through time’s hour glass
with the ease that I cannot.

Slipping through my fingers
trying not to waste another minute





I sigh

Time Sighs



© Daydreamer_Too *All rights reserved


Shared at: Carry on Tuesday (Slipping through my fingers)