There is a bit of truth hidden in between the lies we tell ourselves in order to survive as we hide in plain sight. If you look closely, the world is clearly reflected in the depths of her eyes to those who are wise to see beyond the guise.

Sweet Dreams



There once was a young woman who was born to peasants. Her parents worked hard each day for their daily bread. The family was quite poor, but the girl had three outfits to choose and two would remain hanging in the shared armoire. Every night, no matter how tired her Pa was from the hard labor he performed out on the local farm, the wooden table was cleared after supper and together they would sit to enjoy tea and each others company well in to the wee hours of the night. Her father would teach her many things in the evening. He would always say, “Madeline, you must learn to be independent. You can’t count on anyone in this cruel world.” She learned many valuable lessons from her father that would help her to survive and earn legitimate wages by fancying things crafted with her own hands, when the time came. Yet she never worried herself about famine. After all, she was accustomed to getting by on very little each day. At night her father told many stories of the places and the faces that he had seen, but when she lied down each night, she always recalled the one story her great-grandmother had told. Each night the peasant girl entered the garden wearing a bright and sunny dress looking for her fated prince charming to kiss upon the lips. When no frogs were to be found sitting alongside the banks she would step into the water and float effortlessly as she held on to two lily pads and waited for her frog to come and rescue her, or as the story goes, for her to rescue the frog by placing a sweet kiss on his green lips to break the curse and live happily ever after. At the end of each night she awoke disappointed and wearing the same clothes and exclaimed, “Tonight I will find you Prince Charming, I promise.”


Written for Photo Prompt #45 – Lily Pad – January 27, 2015 over at Mindlovemiserys Menagerie


Night Screams


Secrets are shrouded in the rising mist

Cool comfort is carried on breeze through trees

Drawing curious into make-believe

Where everything is apt past the abyss

Upon entry the tree limbs groan and hiss

Reality shifts to what you must see

Vast possibilities are conceived

Fantasyland provides your vital bliss

Captured deep in the hungry forest’s grip

You run and scream; yet you cannot escape

Caught up in the loose twines you do trip

Vines climb up your legs to wrap around your waist

Pulls you through leaves into the earth you slip

Further down into the nightmare embraced

In response to this week’s Picture it and Write.