strange encounter

once upon a misty moon
i think it was the month of june
a sight enough to make one swoon
i met a leprechaun

his knickers and his jacket green
shamrocks gave his hat a sheen
his beady eyes stared at me keen
then he began to laugh

“aye’ve never met a girl before
but shouldn’t ya wear a pinafore
to cover clothes fer doin’ chores?”
i looked down at myself

i saw the mud caked on my dress
and realized hair was all a mess
but how it happened couldn’t confess
then i awoke from dream

janitorial dreams

drifting into sleep

i sometimes startle

wide awake to avoid

swerve into oncoming traffic

or drive off mountain curve

but in deeper dreams

in public places i

desperately search

for a clean restroom

to find only stalls with

unhinged doors and

plugged toilets



Linking to Lillian’s prompt at dVerse on dreams…mine being less than poetic.

summer dreams

A tan renga where two poets play (CDHK challenge).


a dandelion
now and then interrupting
the butterfly’s dream

© Chiyo-Ni


more than a moth on a weed—
sunshine’s harmonious muse

© lynn__



photo by lynn


postcard of barefoot life

Chèvre at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai prompts us to write a “kikobun” (traveling haibun) on “gypsy” theme. Here’s my interpretation!


In my dream, I’m captured as a young girl by gypsies while visiting Europe. I leave walking trail to pick wild flowers in wooded area and am taken away by Romani people in a brightly painted wagon pulled by dappled horse. We wander the Van Gogh landscape of hilly vineyards and loose haystacks humped in fields, finding temporary day work for local farmers. Every evening, we circle round the flickering campfire, listening to lively songs and loud stories. I join in the dances, wearing my head scarf, peasant blouse and flowing skirt; barefoot in the dirt. 


gold bangle bracelets

gypsy smiles flash in firelight

accordion plays




free vintage clip art









Fireblossom at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads challenges us to write a new poem “looking through a distorted lens”…I think Alice in Wonderland stuff of dreams or Salvador Dali surrealism.  


moon is a balloon

i swallow her whole;

now rise from ground,

suffocating in choked

screams at dream demon

until i, balloon-shaped,

reach sharp tree twig–

spring a leak, go hissing

hysterically thru galaxies,

finally flop limp to earth,

flattened and deflated.

searching for helium

… settle for valium.



elusive dream

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”   – Martin Luther King, Jr.


What happened
to distinctly american

of liberty & justice IMG_4629
for ALL,

equal opportunity
of race?

What happened
to respect
for human life,

our constitutional
law & order,

non-violent freedom of
speech & assembly?

What happened
to ONE nation

under God?

Wake to dream again!




Quadrille (44 words) for dVerse Poets  where De invites us to dream together!  

udderly bountiful limerick

Linking to Tweetspeak Poetry…scroll to see video showing how butter is made!


Introducing a bovine named Daisy

she’s a generous cow, never lazydownload

her milk is a dream

of rich butter cream

she gives away gallons like crazy!


If you remember the Borden cow (“Elsie”, not Daisy), you’ll enjoy this online article.


hopeful haiga dream


Linking as “haiga” (haiku on photo) for CDHK 

2016-01-24-11-45-58_fotor-1 copy


but easier on eyes separately as haiku and photo…


fresh snow insulates

promise of spring on chinook

dream of birdsong


photo by Alex Markovich

this is a brain on DMT

My response to poetics by Anthony at dVerse on DMT, or Dimethyltryptamine:

“It’s the most common drug, and also the rarest; our brain secretes the chemical when we go to sleep, and that is what causes us to dream.”

I had recurring nightmares as a child…now most of my bad “mind trips” occur while awake  😉



cold fear feet

freeze to ground

as hot horde of

mad swordsmen

on war horses

pursue offender

to cliff’s edge

high above surf

pummeling sharp

rocks below;

soft silt crumbles

victim tumbles

falling backwards,

feels salty spray

just before the



waking, shaking,

wet with sweat

supine on floor.


palpable dark:

glowing eyes,

bristling hairs,

animal breath

on face faking

sleep, flash of

canine teeth

snapping for

exposed jugular;

transform into

one of the pack,

running in the night

howling at the moon

which looms fuller

with body’s lift-off,

swift upward rush

as human rocket

orbits past bright

lunar craters

to free-fall thru

galaxies of stars.


lying in bed

wide-eyed and

listening to cellar

door creaking open,

footsteps plodding

deliberately up

basement stairs,

slowly through house and then

another door moans;

heavy footsteps louder

now on stairway

leading to this

attic bedroom—

awaken to sound of

own heart pounding,

lying motionless

wondering if…

it’s waiting.



“But I don’t dream!” you say to me.

No dreams at night

may be lack of DMT,

No dreams by day

must be need of poetry!