Grasslands and ranches line the road,
Speckled with aging frond covered palms.
Ramshackled old houses long abandoned
Leaning from storms that swept the land.
Tomatoes and strawberries and sugarcane,
Active farms and ranches keep us fed
A different world exists between our coasts.
Florida is more than fun and beaches.
The babbling of the spa waterfall lulls me
While the flames of the nearby fire dance
These things put me into a trance.
My mind here is free to wander,
But stays clear of thoughts that hurt,
As if it know it too needs a break.
Here I can feel my stresses melt away.
The crescent moon flies overhead
As the sun bids adieu to the day.
Tonight I will sleep alone in a king bed
Lined with linens and quilts for warmth
And drift off to dream wondrous dreams,
Before next week’s drama starts anew.
The lady entered the great hall, dressed in silks foreign to the gathered crowd. Her crown sparkled of gems, carefully selected to finish her look, or perhaps it was the other way around. The bold red, deep emerald, and royal blue tones reminded all of her place in this world, and it was at the head of the table.
The knights and lords fell to their knees and silence took over where once was a frenzied din. The ladies curtsied as she passed. To each she nodded and shared a genuine smile. As she ascended to the elevated table at the front of the hall, she lifted her skirts slightly, revealing leather riding boots.
She stepped up to the table and welcomed her guests, “Please, rise! This is a festivity!” She raised her glass. “To the people of Riggs, the house of Whitney welcome you!”
With those words, the band resumed playing, the men rose, and the wine began to pour. Queen Filippa straightened her skirts before sitting. As she reached for her chalice, a page kneeled beside her.
“Your Majesty, Yarl Mikkel of Riggs wishes for an audience.”
Filippa looked out across the room and Mikkel nodded his head in her direction. She looked with annoyance back at the page with her dark eyes. “I shall see him. Tomorrow, in the morn. Ensure Lady Aramith is in attendance.” She pursed her ruby lips and waved off the page with the swift tilt of her head.
The page nodded and slipped away with little notice.
“Uncle,” Queen Filippa turn to the man to her right, “why do these roguish men whose lands have come under my protection keep groveling to take my hand?”
Her uncle scoffed.
The Queen continued, “I understand why,” stressing the word why vigorously, “but why can they not see I have all that I want, and easily can take more if I want it. I don’t need these fools falling at my feet. Goodness, I need a real man!”
A hearty laugh escaped her uncle’s mouth. “My dear, they seek the power, and, forgive me, who wouldn’t want a piece of you?”
Queen Filippa rolled her eyes and found levity in his words. Nothing like honest Uncle Abe to state the, well, obvious. She looked down her bosom and shifted a bit to ensure all was in the right place then exhaled in frustration. “I grow tired, Uncle. I shall see you tomorrow.”
Uncle Abe nodded at her as she departed the table to retire from the party.
Filippa paused outside a moment as she returned to her quarters to breathe in the night air. The river and the mountains which ran alongside castle laid awash in moonlight. She thought to herself, These are the views I want to share… The small quiet moments between the flurry of the crown’s demands; this is when I need somebody holding my hand.
She released her breath and continued to her chambers. Tomorrow brought another day of royal duty and another day of sorting out suitors. Tonight she would rest easy knowing Riggs lands and it’s people were now hers.
It’s that glow that cannot be hidden,
It’s a dead give away.
It’s a smile that cannot stop,
And the feeling of walking on air.
But it isn’t all lofty and dreamy,
It’s also honest and naked.
It’s accepting the bad and the ugly,
Seeing it, accepting it, loving it even.
It’s getting in each other’s faces
Then bursting into laughter together.
It’s understanding our pasts and
Learning how to care for each other;
Giving space when it’s needed,
But also pulling closer and not letting go.
But even with all this, it is still
That unexplainable draw to each other
Through time, through decisions,
Divergent paths which come back together.
It’s real.
A bright light blinded her. She lifted her arm, blocking the rays from her eyes.
“You there!” A man’s voice bellowed. “Everything alright?”
His footsteps were heavy. She saw a flash of a badge on his shirt and lowered her arm and he moved his flashlight away from her face.
She lifted her arm pointing, “My car…”
He stepped closer and pointed his flashlight at the vehicle. “Pretty car. Is something wrong?”
Her eyes followed his light. Her car sat in the drive without a scratch. She rubbed her eyes, confused.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
She finally snapped from her trance, “Yes, sorry, I must have had a dream. Sorry to be a bother.”
The officer smiled. “Long days at the beach can cause that.” He tipped his hat. “Have a good night. Be sure to lock up.” He waved his hand toward the duplex.
She nodded, and turned to go inside. She heard her phone ringing as she stepped inside and picked it up.
“Hey, Mom! Yes, I’m settled in. Sure see you then.”
She sighed as she looked at the time. Maybe I just need some sleep. She wandered through the duplex, shutting the windows and turning down the lights then found her way to the bed.
The image of the mangled car drifted in and out of her mind as she tried to get some sleep. Such a strange thing for her to imagine. But, why?
Her sandals glided across the hard floor. She closed her eyes as her palm rested on the cool marble top. It was a kitchen she could only dream of, and it was hers for only a few short days, not hers to keep. It wasn’t spacious, nor well appointed, although, based on her smile you would think it were. It was also now fully stocked for a week.
She looked out the window above the sink to the pool just outside. From here, she couldn’t see the beach, but the sky stretched out for miles as she looked out toward the mainland. She flung open the window to let the sea breezes enter her escape.
She wandered throughout the small duplex, opening every window and sliding door, inhaling the sweet salt air. It was only one of two places she felt she ever belonged. This time, the closer escape fit her needs. She hoped one day in the future she would find her way back to the mountains, but for now, the shore was calling.
As night settled, the island traffic stilled, and the skies grew dark. The occasional laughter of tourists, burnt crisp from too much sun and teetering from too much drink, would waft through the curtains. Her lips would curl into a smile knowing how others loved this place, but not as much as she.
She spent a few minutes writing in her journal. Some poetry, prose, and flowers and swirly designs decorated the pages. She didn’t think anyone would ever find this journal interesting in the slightest, but it was her way to clear her mind and capture her creative thoughts … a sure difference from her day-to-day work.
She decided to head out for a dip to relax and unwind. She stuck her toe into the pool and grinned; it was heated and welcoming. She slid in and every muscle gave way to the buoyancy. She swam across the small pool and found a ledge to rest on. Her legs stretched out and softly fluttered as her breathing slowed.
She looked up through the swaying palms to the whole moon above and smiled. She planned a week of nothing special for the coming week and it was the most wonderful plan of all. So far, it started out exactly as she hoped. She closed her eyes and breathed out.
The squealing of tires startled her back to the real world. Suddenly a loud crash came from out front of the home. She jumped out of the pool and ran toward the sound of twisting metal and flashing lights. Her breath shortened as she moved around the house, worried for whoever was in the car. Was everyone alright? She stopped and stood in awe. Before her she saw her own car, twisted, in the one-car accident.
The candles flame grew long as the night advanced. Her eyes peered through her readers, trying to find a hint to her purpose, her reasoning, her place in this world.
She had looked to others and worked and studied, but nothing could fill the void. She searched her own life for steps taken, wrong decisions, something that would point her in the right direction. Nothing was resolved. Maybe it could be found looking beyond herself.
They say history repeats itself until we learn and move by it. But what history should she investigate? she pondered. She never liked the history texts of school, boring facts and figures with little association to the whys, impact, and lessons to prevent it again. Perhaps she needed to look closer to home, within her own family.
She flipped through the text of old, ratted pages in the binder her mother provided long ago. It wasn’t a wonderous adventure to finding out she was the great-great whatever of some great historic figure. Farmers, laborers, coal miners, and such filled that line going back to England. Hmph…, she always thought she was Irish and Scottish, but now, English too? Humphries, the real family name. Turns out the Irish name was an adoptive father a few generations back. And to add to that, in her veins ran the blood of a noted “Indian-Killer”. Glorious, she rolled her tired eyes. Embarrassing was more like it.
She spied some side notes sketched onto the margin, indicating a connection to Vice President Hubert Humphrey. Interesting, but still, not too revealing. However, she was tired, and her bed was more welcoming at this late hour. She would need to track that down another night. She shut the book and blew out the candle.
Any similarities to real events or people are purely for story-telling purposes and should not be considered historical facts in any way.
Her eyes fluttered open, only to see him there, on his side, watching her sleep. She let her eyes drift back to closed, not wanting to break the magic he was casting over her. She knew that she was now his, and that he could choose to take it away just as he had given it to her.
She heard his breath as he looked her over. Her brown curled hair hung haphazardly against her cheek. The sheet softly wrapped around her midsection, while her tanned legs stuck out seeking the coolness of the room.
She felt his hand brush her cheek and move the stray curl away. His magic needed to see her whole face. Her heart fluttered as she wondered what he might be thinking as he watched his prize asleep on her side.
He didn’t want to wake her, so he withheld caressing her for a few more moments. She nuzzled into the pillow, looking peaceful. Whatever evilness she possessed from the night before had dissipated while she slept. All that remained was the angel he longed to hold close.
She could hear his breath, soft but wanting. His eyes intently staring at her, imploring her to finally wake from her slumber. His magic had been applied; she knew he was done by his breath. Finally, her eyes opened and looked up at his smile.
She paused, wanting this moment emblazoned into her soul where it would always remain. Finally, sleepily, her eyes locked with his. She smiled at him and whispered, “Good morning.”
The month of April has come to a close. I’ve enjoyed sharing my poetry this past month, and I hope you all have enjoyed reading it.
Thank you for all of your likes. I hope something of mine found it’s way to your heart or your mind, or maybe even made you chuckle.
Keep writing and reading and all those creative juices flowing.
~D. R. Miller
The heavens spill forth across the land,
The lake’s glass surface ruptures in turmoil
As the sky moans and strikes out in pain.
Loud and disturbing, but calming as well,
For it washes clean the pollen and grunge
And renews the grass and flowers alike.
Slowly the storm recedes, the sky returns blue
And winged creatures take flight once more.
April 30, 2022 – DRM
Dawn Renee Writes 