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Dorothy A Feb 2015
She yelled out her back porch and into the alley as if one calling home the hogs. “Johnny! Johnny! You get home for supper! John—nyyy! You spend all day in that godforsaken tree that you’re gonna grow branches! Johnny, get home now!”

Up in his friend’s tree house, Johnny slammed his card down from his good hand that he was planning to win from. “****! She always does that to me”, he complained. “Just when I’m right in the middle of—“

Zack laughed. “Your ma’s voice carries down the whole neighborhood—practically to China!”

Everyone laughed. Iris’s daughter, Violet, said to her mom. “Grandma and Dad always butted heads.” She loved when her mom told stories of her childhood, especially when it was amusing.  

Iris’s good friend and neighbor, Bree, asked Iris, “I bet you never thought in a million years that she’d eventually be your mother-in-law”

“No, I sure didn’t”, Iris answered. “I am just glad that she liked me!”

Everyone laughed. Telling that small tale took her back to 1961 when her and her twin brother Isaac—known as Zack to most everyone—would hang out together with his best friend, Johnny Lindstrom. Because Iris was like one of the boys, she fit perfectly in the mix. Zach and she were fifteen and were referred to in good humor by their father as “double trouble”. It was that summer that they lost their dear dad, Ray Collier, and memories of him became as precious as gold. If it wasn’t for her brother and his friend, Iris be lost. Hanging out all day—from dawn til dusk—with Zack and Johnny was her saving grace.  Her mother was glad to have them out of her hair, not enforcing their chores very much.

“I was a tomboy to the fullest”, Iris told everyone. “I had long, beautiful blonde hair that I put back in a pony tail, and the cutest bangs, but I didn’t want to be seen as girly. I wore rolled up jeans and boat shoes with bobby socks, tied the bottom of my boyish shirt in a knot—but I guess I could still get the boys to whistle at me. I think it was my blonde hair that did it.”

“Oh, Mom”, Violet said, “You were beautiful and you know it! Such a gorgeous face!” She’d seen plenty of pictures of her mother when she was younger. Both Iris and Zack were tall and blonde. Zack’s hair could almost turn white in the summertime.

“Were beautiful?” Iris asked, giving Violet a concerned look, her hands on her hips in a playful display of alarm at her daughter’s use of the past tense. She may have been an older woman now, but she didn’t think she has aged too badly.

“Are beautiful”, Violet corrected herself. She leaned over and kissed her mom on the cheek. Iris was nearly seventy, and she aged pretty gracefully, and she was content with herself.  

They all sat in the living room sipping wine or tea and eating finger food. It was a celebration, after all—or just an excuse to get together and have a ladies night out. Not only had Iris had invited her daughter and friend, she had her sister-in-law—Zach’s wife, Franci—and her daughter-in-law, Rowan, married to her youngest son, Adam.

“Weren’t you going to marry someone else?” Bree asked Iris.

“Yes”, Iris responded. “We all wouldn’t be sitting here right now if I did. My life would have been very different.”

“A guy named Frank”, Violet stated. “I used to joke that he was almost my dad.”

Iris said to Violet, “Ha…ha. You know it took both your father and I to make you you. Everyone laughed at how cute that this mother-daughter duo talked. Iris went on, “I actually went on a couple of dates with your dad when I was seventeen. I was starting to get used skirts and dresses and went out of my way to look really nice for guys, but it was just high school stuff. After I graduated, I met a guy named Frank Hautmann, and we were engaged within several months.”

“What happened to him?” Rowan asked.

Iris sipped her tea and seemed a bit melancholy. “We did love each other, but it just didn’t work out. I know he eventually married and moved out of state. I ran into John about two or three years later, and everything just clicked. His family moved several miles away once we all graduated, so being best friends with Zack kind of faded away for him. But once I saw him again, we were really into each other. We took off in our dating as if no time ever lapsed. Soon we were married, and that was that.” There was an expression of “aww” going around the room in unison.  

Bree stood up and raised her wine glass. She announced, “Here’s to true love!” Everyone lifted their glass or cup in response.

Franci stood up next to have her own toast. She said, “Here’s to my husband and father of my three, handsome sons being declared officially cancer free, to Violet’s little bun in the oven soon to be born and also to my *****-in-law, Iris, for finally finding that pink pearl necklace that she thought was hopelessly gone forever! Cheers!”

“Cheers” everyone echoed and sipped on their wine or tea. “That’s some toast and makes this get together even more meaningful”, Iris complemented Franci.

Almost eight months pregnant, Violet restricted her drinking to tea. Her mother was so thrilled that she found out Violet was having a girl. It was equally wonderful that Iris’s beloved brother had recovered from his prostrate cancer, for throat cancer had taken their father’s life when they were young. So really finding the necklace that her mother gave her many years ago—that was misplaced while moving seven years ago—was just the icing on the cake to all the other news.    

Iris said, “My brother being in good health and my daughter having her baby girl is music to my ears. It trumps finding that necklace that I never thought I’d ever see again—even though it was the most precious gift my mother ever gave me.”  

At age thirty-five, Violet had suffered two miscarriages, so having a full-term baby in her womb was such a relief. It would be the first child to her and her husband, Paul, and the first granddaughter to her parents. Iris had three children altogether. Ray was named after her father, and then there was Adam and Violet. Only Adam and Rowan had any children—two sons, Adam Jr. and Jimmy. Ray and his wife, Lorene, lived abroad in London because of his job, and they had never wanted any children.  

“What name have you decided on?” Rowan asked Violet.

All eyes were on Violet who had quite a full belly. “Paul and I have agreed on a few names, but we still aren’t sure.” She turned to her mom and said, “Sorry, Mom, we won’t be keeping up the tradition.”

Iris was puzzled. “What tradition?” she asked.

Violet smiled. “I know it’s not really a tradition”, she admitted, “but didn’t you realize that your mother, you and I all have flower names?”

Everyone laughed at that observation. “That’s hysterical!” Bree noted. “Flower names?”

“That’s news to me” Iris said, not getting it.

“Me, too”, Franci agreed.

“Okay”, Violet explained to her mother “Grandma was Aster, you are Iris and I am Violet. Get my drift?”

The others started laughing, but Iris never even thought of this connection. She responded, “Well, my dad’s nickname out of Aster for my mom was Star.  I never thought of her name as something flowery but more heavenly…I guess. And I never thought of Iris as the flower—more like the colored part of the eye comes to mind. And Violet was my favorite name for a girl and also my favorite color—purple—but you can’t really name your daughter, Purple.”

The others laughed again. Everyone began to get more to eat, mingling by the food.  The gathering lasted for almost two hours, and eventually lost its momentum. Meanwhile, everyone took turns passing around the strand of beautiful, light pink pearls that Iris displayed so proudly in its rediscovery. It was a wedding gift from her mother in 1971, and Iris was painstakingly careful with it, swearing she’d never lose it again. She’d make sure of it. She prized it above anything else she owned, for she had no other special possession from her mother. Her sister got all of their mother’s items of jewelry, for Aster always felt it was the oldest girl’s right to it and this other sister gladly agreed.  Aster was never flashy or showy, and didn’t desire much. Her mother’s wedding ring, silver pendant necklace and an antique emerald ring from generations ago in England was all she wanted. Anything else was up for the grabbing by her two younger sisters.  

Iris learned the hard way to be mindful and not careless about her jewelry. An occasional earring would fall off and be lost, but any other woman could say the same thing. There was only one other incident that happened when she was a teenager that she never shared with anyone other than Zack. If she would confide in anyone, it would be him. Not even her husband knew, and she wasn’t going to tell anyone now. It was too embarrassing to share in the group, especially after tale of the pink pearl necklace that went missing.  

Bree told her, “Keep that in a safe or a safety deposit box—somewhere you know it won’t form legs and walk away.”

“Oh, ha, ha”, Iris remarked, flatly. “I don’t know how it ended up boxed up in the attic with my wedding dress. I sewed that dress myself, by the way. I guess too many hands were involved packing up things, and I am sure I did not put it in that box. Tore this house apart while it was stuck in the attic. Tore that apart, too.”
  
“And yet you didn’t find it until now”, Rowan stated. “It is as if it was hiding on you”.

“Well, I wasn’t even really looking for it when I found it, Iris said. “I was just trying to gather things for my garage sale, and thought of storing my old dress back in the closet. Luck was on my side. It’s odd that I didn’t find it earlier… but it sure did a good job of hiding on me.”

“Like it had a mind of its own”, Franci said, winking, “and didn’t want to be found.”

“Yeah”, Iris agreed. “It was just pure torture for me thinking I may never lay eyes on it ever again. All I had were a few pictures of me wearing it. I was convinced it was gone. ”

After a while, Iris’s friend, sister-in-law and daughter-in-law left one by one, but Violet remained with her mom.  They went in her bedroom to put the necklace back in its original case and in a dresser drawer —or at least that is what Violet had thought.

Iris placed the necklace into the case and handed it to her daughter. She told her, “I’m sure you’ll take good care of it.”

Violet’s jaw dropped as she sat on her parent’s king-sized bed. “Oh, Mom—no!” she exclaimed. “You can’t do that! You just found it, so why? Grandma gave it to you!”

Iris sat down beside her daughter. “I can give it to you, and I just did”, she insisted. “Anyway, it is a tradition to pass down jewelry from a mother to her firstborn daughter. And since you’re my only one, it goes to you. Someday, it can go to your daughter.”

Violet had tears in her eyes. She opened the box and smoothed her fingers over the pearls.
“Mom, you won’t lose it again. I am sure you won’t!”

“Because I’m giving it to you, dear. I know I can see it again so don’t look so guilty!” Violet gave her mom a huge hug, her growing belly pressing against her. The deed was done, for Violet knew that she couldn’t talk her mother out of things once her mind was set.

Iris shared with her, “You know that when I was born—Uncle Zack, too—my parents thought they were done with having children. My sister and brother were about the same level to each other as me and Zack were. It was like two, different families.”

Iris’s sister, Miriam, known to everyone as Mimi, was fifteen years older than the twins, and Ray Jr. was almost thirteen years older. Being nearly grown, Mimi and Ray were out on their own in a few years after the twins were born. Mimi married at nineteen and had three sons and two daughters, very much content in her role as a homemaker. Ray went into the army and remained a bachelor for the rest of his life.

“I never knew I was any different from Mimi or Ray until I overheard my Aunt Gerty talking to my mother”, she told Violet. “I mean I knew they were much older, but that was normal to me.”

“What did she say?” Violet had wondered.

“Well”, Iris explained, “I was going into the kitchen when I stopped to listen to something I had a feeling that I shouldn’t be hearing.”

Her mother was washing dishes, and Aunt Gerty was drying them with a towel and putting them away. Gerty said in her judgmental tone, “You’ve ended up just like Mother. You entered your forties and got stuck with more children to care for. How you got yourself in this mess…well…nothing you can do about it now. Those children are going to wear you down!”

Gerty was two years younger than Aster, and considered the family old maid, never walking down the aisle, herself.  She prided having her own freedom, unrestricted from a husband’s demands or the constant needs of crying or whiny children.

Aster replied to her sister, with defensive sternness, “Yes, I’ve made my bed and I’m lying in it! Do you have to be so high and mighty about it?”

“I couldn’t even move”, Iris told Violet. “I was frozen in my tracks. Probably was about eight or nine—no older than ten. I heard it loud and clear. For the first time in my life, I felt unwanted. It just never occurred to me before that my mother ever felt this way. Now I heard her admit to it. She didn’t say to my aunt that she was dead wrong.”

Iris’s mother came from a big family—the third of eight children and the oldest daughter—so she saw her mother having to bring up children well into her forties and older, and it wasn’t very appealing. Her mother never acted burdened by it, but Aster probably viewed her mother as stuck.

“That’s terrible. I don’t have to ask if that hurt.  I can see how hurt you are just in telling me”, Violet told her with sadness and compassion. “I don’t remember Aunt Gerty. I barely remember Grandma. She wasn’t ever mean to me, but she seemed like a very strict, no-nonsense woman.”  

“Oh, she was, Iris admitted. “I don’t even know how her and my father ever connected—complete opposites. Unless she changed from a young, happy lady to hard, bitter one. I don’t know. You would have loved your grandfather, though, Violet. He liked to crack jokes and was fun to be around. My mother was so stern that she never knew how to tell a joke or a funny story. Dutiful—that’s how I’d describe her. She was dutiful in her role—she did her job right—but I began to realize that she wasn’t affectionate. Except for your Aunt Mimi—their bond was there and wished I had it. Mimi was more ladylike and more like a mother’s shadow. Their personalities suited each other, I suppose.”  

Iris pulled out an old photo album out of a drawer. There was a black and white, head and shoulders portrait of her mother in her most typical look in Iris’s childhood. She had a short, stiff 1950s style bob of silvery gray hair and wore cat eye glasses. Not a hint of a smile was upon her lips—like she never knew how.

“Do you really think Grandma resented you and Uncle Zack?” Violet asked.

Iris responded, “Well, I’m sure my mother preferred having one child of each and didn’t wake up one day and say, ‘I’d like to have twins now’. I mean, she had a perfect set and my mom liked perfection. That’s all it was going to be—at least she thought. Nobody waits over a dozen years to have more. If my mother really resented getting pregnant again, now she had to deal with two screaming babies instead of one.  Must have come as quite a shock and she was about to turn forty.”

“It’s a shame, but woman have children past that age”, Violet pointed out.

“Sure, and some wait to start families until they have done some of the things they always wanted to do. But if I was to ask my mother if she wanted children that time in her life—which I never dared to—I think she’d have wanted to say, ‘not at all.’”

“It’s a shame”, Violet repeated. “Grandma should never have treated you two any differently.” Iris wasn’t trying to knock her mother, but Violet felt the need to be very protective for her against this grandmother that she barely remembered. Aster has been dead since Violet was six-years-old, and she had a foggy memory of her in her coffin, cold to the touch and very matriarchal in her navy blue dress.

Iris admitted, “I knew Mimi was her favorite, and I was my father’s favorite because I was the youngest girl. Zack and I we
I love the way you're positive
And always lift me up
I cannot seem to comprehend
The way you're full of love.

I thought we all had our bad days
But you push though all of yours
You smile in so many ways
I love how your hope endures.

You're the best inspiration
That I've met in a long while
So many in your position
Saw joy as out of style.

I'm glad when I'm around you
You mean so much to me—
Everyone would say the same, too
That you're amazing, Bree.
Love you! ^_^
There was an old person of Bree,
Who frequented the depths of the sea;
she nurs'd the small fishes,
And washed all the dishes,
And swam back again into Bree.
Johnny Noiπ Oct 2018
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Beautiful Bree,
Don't fear.
I love your smile,
You are my sunshine.
Blink those long eyelashes of yours,
and whisper softly through your astonishing smile.
These breaths reach my soul.
I can hear your heartbeat through the air,
through the atmosphere,
through me.
Beautiful Bree,
Don't reminisce so much.
Don't fight what you feel,
Please do not forget.
Hold on for the ride.
Beautiful Bree,
Autumn approaches.
I will see you soon.
My beautiful Bree,
Remain True.
Here i leave you with flowers.
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2018
EᔕᔕᕼI
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
Esshi and Ainhara look around the
shop. Thankfully, it is just them.
'One less thing to worry about...' Esshi
sighs as she looks at Ainhara, the
concern in her eyes is clear.

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Shh!" Lyn waves her hand and stops
them from bowing. "Please don't
bow. And don't call me Your Grace,
either." Bree and Michael stand straight.
"Please, I just want to temporarily
escape and enjoy the day."

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Of course, your secret is safe with
us, Your High- I mean... Nyl..."
Michael says and they nod.
"It's a honour to have you here.
You and your handmaidens."
Bree says, eyes shining.

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"The honour is ours!" Esshi says.
"If you would be so kind to-"
"Not inform anyone? We won't."
Michael promises them with a
reassuring smile. "But I will say
that we are glad to see that you
are well, my lady."

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Thank you." Lyn sighs. "Ainhara."
Her handmaid digs into the basket
and brings out some gold coins
and a few gems. "Here. Please
accept this. Also know that I will
send a few gifts your way for
keeping my secret."
"You are far too kind, Nyl."
Bree teases.
I know, it's kinda dull.
Hopefully I'll feel more inspired in the next week!
Hugs!
Lyn ***
Nat Lipstadt Aug 8
there is a delight unique
(which is mispronounced
by all, actually, u-nee-cue)
after thousands of poems
composed and disposed,
smack dab read, two- fab-you-lust-
fulfilling new(new (to HP), anyway)
poets who have left me
brighter but blue
with one option, two problems:

De doc he say, son you in a bad way,
wake to neon flashing ear to ear,
a l t e r n at i n g
smiles and grimaces,
face flashing
unceasingly
like a lonely
orange red Hotel sign
irritating the dark, all night long


two poets,
offering either hope or despair,
and I am bereft and bewildered,
by two new to me poet~scriveners,
with such distinctive and oppositioned
positional views of life expressed so well,
making my Pity #9, feeling prissy and yet prophetic,
as these two make want to cry/smile with every read
of theirs…and throw in the crying towel…wet with tears …
and the summer breezes, carries us leeward,
to the sheltering side of my island


READ THEM!
(see below)
Robert Z Apr 2017
i collect stamps
not the mail kind
not the male kind
not the may hill kind
not the mayo ill kind
not the may hue kind
not the maim yew kind
not the mwaya view kind
not the mwayam myeil kind
not the amaway yilovski kind
not the mynsigwi malomisten kind
snot snee smail skind
rot tree trail rind
trotsky braille grind
hot bree hail's tine
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
kind
­kind
mail
mali
alim
liam
ailm
ailm
ailm
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2018
EᔕᔕᕼI
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Oh yes! They're of the finest quality."
"Well, I would love to get that one!"
She points to a small A5 notebook
with watercolour swirls.
"Good taste!" Bree claps as Michael
pulls a stool, stands on it and pulls
the book from the bookshelf, handing
to Lyn who stares at it. She strokes
the book and opens it to stroke to
fine paper.
"Beautiful!"

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"That ring," Michael stares at it and
Lyn tenses, as did Ainhara and Esshi.
'How we forget about the ring!'
Esshi mentally facepalms. It is of
white-gold, the white lily of Aurelinaea
with the monogram of the Royal family.

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
Lyn was granted it when she was
coronated, and always left it on, so
much so that it was like second
nature.
"Q-Quee-"
It's always something loool
Lyn ***
Matt Jan 2017
I love Bree
She is a good friend to me

She gets the munchies
I get them too

We have a good time chatting
Yes we do

We stick up for each other
When we are feeling blue

She was there when I felt sad
Her hug made me feel glad

She lives in Washington
I'm in CA
But she is just a keystroke away

Her taste in music really rocks
I'd like to buy her purple socks

Stay warm Bree
It's winter time
And I'm feeling fine

I love my home now even more
There are more chats with her
In store

Dear God in heaven
I do pray
Protect Bree and her family
Every day
Damaged Apr 2013
I wasn't even out of my car yet and I broke down.
We made eye contact; for me it was painful.
No wave.
No nod.
No smiles.
From either of us.
It hurt me because now I realize I overreacted,
I should've stayed more calm when I talked to you.
I shouldn't have let it get to me.
Why did this upset me so much?
I saw you again in the locker room.
I know you saw me too.
Again;
nothing.
No smile.
No wave.
From either of us.
You may not know but the simple and enthusiastic "Hi Bree!" with a warm smile after,
well that really brightens my day.
I tried talking to you, but got no response.
Maybe your phone was dead? Or maybe you got it taken away in class?
Or maybe I ruined things.
Maybe I shouldn't have even responded in the first place.
Responded in the morning and said I was just asleep.
Maybe all these thoughts running circles in my head are useless;
but if I know one thing for sure it's that I don't want something this stupid to come between us.
And if I know anything else, it's that I was stupid and I'm sorry.
Maybe you'll see this maybe you won't. Maybe you'll say something maybe you won't. Maybe we'll be okay maybe we won't. But I hope to God I didn't **** things up too bad.
She gobbles up short stories,
She scoffs down lines of prose;
She reads the long tales through the night—
Bree's appetite plainly shows.
Love you Bree! ;)
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2018
EᔕᔕᕼI
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Just browsing," Nyl says, softening
her voice. "Do you have any Puhan
notepads by any chance? They make
the best notepads. Oh, and some
ink-sticks? The smaller ones."

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
Michael chuckles, "You and my wife
would get along well, Nyl. You're in
luck! A new shipment came in from
Puhan today!" Michael smiles. "They're
on the upper levels."

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
Her handmaids can tell she is smiling
under her veil. With shining eyes, Nyl
skips up the steps and admires the books.
Esshi and Ainhara follow behind her.
"Honey!" The three women turn to see
a slender shadow of a woman from the
far corner of the room. " I've taken the
Puhan inventory. Just the Luciuscemi
carvings to do! Oh." She turns head to
face Lyn, Esshi and Ainhara.

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
When she walks out of the shadows,
she smiles. She was in a long beige
dress, her hair in a low ponytail and
simple brown shoes. "Hello!"
"I was just talking about you, Bree."
His wife raises a brow. "Oh really?"
"He says that you too are a lover
of Puhan's ink-sticks and notepads."
Nyl beams.
^-^
Lyn ***
tonights the night ,that we run free
and sail across the skies
set fire to the fields of grass
and in the flames we lie.

we lie not only in the flames
but in the star crossed waters
breaking down the barriers
we oh-so-often encounter

tonights the night we pour our lives
into a cup of bree
start fights against a desperate system
a witness to the scene.

a witness to the civalized ,
crazy, ******* men
who dictate ways to justify
a spoiled genertion

tonights the night we find the face
of all and knowing truths
we'll find the land eldorado
and hang it by a noose.

destroying all the poverty
and judgment of the lives
of those who may live differently
a world of lows and highs.

tonights the night we paint the town
in cycadelic tones
groups of faceless matadors
in mass, we stand alone.

confused, we find an intrest
in paranormal things
searching for another way
to earn those angels wings.

tonights the night we stand our ground
not jump, but break the fence
embark along our epic journey
a life that could make sence

no longer will we live in fear
of all we do not know
prove, the myths are logical
across the universe we'll go.

tonights the night we sing a tune
that test the strands of our existance
and tell of all the lies
that float above our empty heads.
the drones will come alive
William Murray Sep 2017
I found you heavy on my heart tonight.
Too sweet a girl for such a bitter night,
but life has a way of casting shadows to blind our sight
only to be greeted soon by dawns first light.

I found your pain weighing on my soul today.
Why must your heart be so very far away?
If I could, Id take it all away, and bless you only with smiles of
love and grace.

I found your heated tongue pressing on my mind as well.
Why must the ones we've loved put us through hell?
There is light!
There is peace!
and all will be well!

I found you heavy on my heart tonight.
nathan sabellini Sep 2012
I was walking through town
when to my surprise i came across something brown,
no it wasn't a tree and neither was it some very moldy Bree
though the smell was similar in fact it was rather peculiar
this thing that was brown was long and round probably weighed about a pound,
this thing that weighed about pound and was long and brown was being feasted on by a billion flies,
in a moment that seemed like an eternity they all looked at me with there 2billion eyes
i was shaken with fear, scared  by that ferocious buzzing that i couldn't bear.
"that sound still keeps me up at night i am haunted by that massive crap"
:)
Damaged Feb 2014
It's two am.
Why can't I sleep?
Why am I wide awake?
Oh wait I know;
Because sleep and I aren't friends anymore.
My mind races when I try to rest.
The voices don't shut up.
I can't close my eyes.
I can't escape the nightmare.
The same **** one.
Daddy's in it.
He's saying somethig,
what daddy I can't hear
HELP
Im coming daddy hold on
Help me please
But I can never reach him in time.
Something always holds me back.
I scream and cry and;

wake up Bree, *** it's okay. It was just a dream. Go back to sleep

But it wasn't just a dream and it's not that easy to just go back to sleep.

And that's why at two am I'm still wide awake.
I haven't slept in two days and I'm still wide awake.
Harriet Shea Oct 2023
Dance, light beams follow you
with bliss, dance into the light, bringing
forth your freshness in the
night.

Special, those who radiate rays
through years of darkness, they know
where light comes from...

Dance into the light, follow your
song, no song greater than
songs that come from
within.

Dance with grace, you'll bring sparkle
starting flames, the fire of loves
sweet embrace...

Be true, only in truth can you see
what lies within, fire burns,
while love grows and
grows.

Never stars shine in vain,
each time you search, sparkle
is what you'll see.

Life never-ending mystery,
holding dear, it's overpowering
adventure, capturing loves
sweet song..

Dance into light, and hold on to each
dream, they are dreams' that make
you! You.

Taken from "Hearts Expression Collection"


© Derena Bree (All rights reserved)
Harriet Shea Mar 2019
Mystic light shine high above my head
bring forth the glow of life sweet
bliss upon hearts of love.

Mystic light bring forth your clairvoyant
vision in form of spirituality, loyalty, insight
knowing that what shall happen will for the
betterment of mankind.

Mystic light of freedom shine down your
mystery deep enough, to find reason
for generative creation to continue
on with love.

Mystic light of enchantment, guide us
down the path of imagination, knowledge
placing two together encircled as one.

(Mystic Light)


By Derena Bree
Ike Nov 2019
A star has fallen
All light is forever dim
You will be missed girl
Tint Sep 2018
Me, the oathbreaker

I looked at the stars and named them, light, bright, spark, giggle
I throw a rock in the river and waited for the monster to come
I will call them carter, jake, scar, groomer
I touched the trees with magic and called it "iron twig", I laughed
With conviction I ran after the bug and called it by the name "bree"

Soon, my feet took me to a place, well lit with thunder blades
I called it "beauty", I stayed to the place and found peace
I changed the name to "home".. a beautiful home
The wizards from the nearby village gave me food, they were dressed in white and they brought with them tools

They never let me borrow the tools
And they stare at me with such scrutinizing eyes
They sometimes tries to drag me from my beautiful home
but I stayed, I always stay

One day I woke up and I am in a one-door-room
the wizards are injecting something to my body, I cannot move
what is happening? what is happening.
my home is gone and I'm detained
They kept looking like I was crazy and they injected me again

I fell asleep and dreamed of a nightmare
It was as if I have gone deranged
they put me inside a bulding that said
"Home for the Mentally Insane"

Never did I woke up again
What is normal anyways?
Harriet Shea Apr 2018
Just want to say goodbye my sweet
friend.  I knew it was going to be this
way for a few years now. I already
felt your sadness because we could
not see each other.
God in heaven and all your loved ones
will welcome you home, you can once
again smile, you always had such lovely
smile.  You can see all the snowbirds we
all loved so much.
Fly high my friend, you are free at last, no
more fear to hold you down, you can
now fly through the heaven of light
and love.
You can go to Rainbow Bridge and all
your dogs will be waiting for you, with
tails wiggling all over.

I will be down here to pray with light, love
and peace my friend..Good-Bye.


© Derena Bree (All rights reserved)
Jamison Bell Dec 2022
I’d like to think there’s a time and place that suits both you and I.
Where we sip tea in a lil cafe and watch the angels die.
It’s sorta the end but not for us because we’re both just passing through.
You’re almost at the edge of me and I halfway to you.
Tipping celestial windmills while laughing at illusions.
Shooting the fools in mid air as they jump to their conclusions.
I kinda hope that they ask me what I’d like to do.
And honestly I wouldn’t care just so long as it’s with you.
Harriet Shea Aug 2018
You sit quietly believing in
yourself, you can smile, you
can cry, but remember your
heart will always care in a very
special way.

Your the keeper of your heart
soul, keeper of all you believe
keeper of your spirituality and
believer of God.

You sit at the hand of the
beholder, knowing the
distant of mind, distant
of secret thoughts, capturing
blue flames of your own destiny.

Derena Bree

— The End —