Archive for Dreams

The Poet Awakens Again

Posted in Everday Living, My Inspirations, Poetry with tags , , on 19/08/2009 by gwenguin1

In my heart I love writing prose far more than poetry, yet so many people whose opinions I respect have told me that I am ‘good’ at poetry (whatever that means, lol).  So, I keep on writing poems,  even though I think that they are nothing to write home about.  Anywhoodlz, here is my latest poem, inspired by an incredibly sweet dream that remained clear and viable long after I had awakened.



I went to sleep, as I always do,

Alone and lonely,

Wishing to be a lover.

Loved and loving,

No longer a solitary heart.


Then I began to dream,

So clear and sweet,

I wanted to sleep forever.

You and I, as one,

Bathed in luxury, and joy.


As lovers we were

Inexpressibly matched.

The least touch was

Starlight and Heaven,

Magic of the highest form.


We were at once

Scarlett and Rhett,

Arthur and Guinevere,

Adam and Eve, and

You and I.


Whether we were met

By Royalty in Castles;

Holy Men atop Mountains,

Or the Common Man

In the crowded streets.


We were met with

Honour and love;

Everywhere we went

We were respected

And bathed by our love.


Once I was wrapped in

Green velvet gown;

Like the Lady of

Welcome Summer

And the return of Plenty.


The we were clad like

Kings of the Far East in

Rare Silks and Jewellery.

Perfumed by musks and

Sweet Sandalwood.


We were gowned in nothing,

Naked and unashamed,

Innocent and innocence.

No shame of our

God-given forms.


The in we rode the range,

Jeans and chambray.

Fine steeds and

Soaring hawk as

Our procession.


The we were blessed

No longer two, but

Planning for three.

Surprised by two

Sons so like their sire.


Who would wish to

Waken from this glory?

To worry about trifles

And be inundated with

Childish trivialities.


So now I sit, alone,

And more lonely

Than I was, carrying

The knowledge that

I had just dreamed.


For Our Bobbie Jo

Posted in Everday Living, Family History, My Inspirations, Old Deep Roots with tags , , , , , , , , , , on 16/05/2008 by gwenguin1

This was written in response to the ‘Saddest Words’ prompt on


Once Upon a time, I was married, and loved my husband’s family as I do my blood kin.  Some of them were easier to love than others, my husband’s sisters Kathy and Melanie I still call onw another sisters and our love grew deeply and permanently.  From each of them I was blessed with a beautiful, loveable niece.


Our Kathy lived near my husband and I in Corvallis, Oregon with her sons, Brian and Brandon, and her daughter Roberta Joliene (Bobbie Jo).  Brandon and Bobbie were of school age and I watched Bobbie after Kindergarten at my house. 


Bobbie and I had wonderful times together, puddle-jumping, cooking, and other such delights filled our afternoons.  I called her, “Ma Petite.” , and I became ‘Aunt Bear’., I wondered why she called me that until the day she tried her best to wrap child-sized arms around my Earth Mother hips, looked up at me from adoring green eyes and said, “I call you my Aunt Bear, do you know why?”


“No, ma petite, I don’t know.  Why do you call me your Aunt Bear?”

“Because huggung you is like hugging a teddy bear!!”  She squeezed as tightly as she could, and I hugged her back.


“Oh thank you sweetie!!”  I managed to say this around the lump filling my throat.


Bobbie had been the flower girl at my wedding, and my husband caught this utterly darling photo of her:

The Perfedt lower Girl



Time does what it does best and passed, Kathy moved back to her beloved New York, I separated from my husband and returned to Arizona; Bobbie and Brandon grew up.


Kat and I kept in touch over the years, we have now been friends for over 30 years and will most likely be friends until we return to the First Home of All Souls.  Kat has not had an easy life by any road, and last year she was dealt the cruellest blow any mother could suffer.


In August of 2007, at the age of 18, Bubbie Jo passed away suddenly, leaving a silent, aching void behind.


All grown up?


So young, pretty, and loving; far too soon to be taken from her family and friends.

Unwilling farewell


Last weekend I dreamed of our Bobbie Jo, as she was when I was her Aunt Bear.  She came to me and asked a gift of me, one I must do, although in my heart I would not do it .  She held my hand, suffused with love and trust and  asked this simple gift of me.


“Let me go.”

So now, although I still weep and hear her voice in my heart; the hand of my spirit opens, and Bobbie Jo flies; bright and happy into the arms of All-Mother, who holds her in love and tenderness until we shall meet again.


And I, I must say the saddest words;


“Good-bye, ma Petite, and Gods’speed to you.”