the man of her dreams

He came to her in her dreams.  At first a gentle zephyr … a little breath of wind tugging at her unconscious mind. Then he took shape; solid and real.  A great sasquatch of a man, who gathered her up in his arms, and filled her with love and hope.  “Delicious Angel,” he breathed and she unfurled like a delicate flower and laid her head upon his beating heart.  She felt his love fuse into her body and communicate with her soul. Safe and warm she breathed in his essence; sourced from the earth itself; natural and wild, sprinkled with beauty from every creature that had ever lived.  Her eyes filled with joyful tears, and as they peppered her cheeks, he gently brushed them away. “Cry, little one,” he murmured, ‘cry for the joy of life and the wonder of what is yet to come. Do not despair, fill yourself with hope and love and nothing else will matter.”

She looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “I wish I’d met you long ago. I could feel that something was missing, but I didn’t know what it was.  So I made my choice, believing it would fill that emptiness inside of me.  And it did for a while.  But I lost all sense of myself.  Put aside my dreams. And now I am committed to a lifetime of responsibility.  Oh, sasquatch! Truth and love surges through me, when I think of you and all that you stand for.  And I stretch and stretch until I feel I will burst, but I am trapped … I cannot be freed, until I have met my responsibilities on earth.”

“Then I shall wait for you delicious Angel … up there in the mountains you love so much.  Free your spirit now and then and soar with me over the peaks and delight in being free; and when you feel the pull of obligation, go back for a while and do what you feel is important.  But remember, I will always be with you; in your heart and soul, for we are connected. We have known each other in other times and places, long ago … and we will always recognise each other, wherever we find ourselves.”

And as quickly as he appeared, he vanished and she felt the sharp pang of loss like a knife cutting through to the soul.  She awoke, trembling, filled with joy and love, but overwhelmed with sadness.   She gathered her husband in her arms and pressed her head upon his chest.  Confused by her tears, he told her he loved her.  “You mustn’t cry,” he said, “everything is okay.”  And he snuggled into her and fell back to sleep.  But somehow she didn’t feel okay.

Deep in her soul, she felt something stirring. A burst of energy that forced her to twist and contort. Oh how she wished she could shed her skin and be free. Then she remembered the unconditional love of the man of her dreams, and a sudden calmness washed over her.  She closed her eyes once more, and drifted into a peaceful sleep.



a man who cried for me

That day
When you broke down

I held you in my arms,
Astonished by your pain.

I had used up all my tears,
Long since our ‘child’

Had ripped away.

But you? You were so calm.
So matter of fact.

I thought
you hadn’t cared.

Now I understood.
You’d saved your tears
For me.

Feared my loss
More than any child who
‘might have been.’

I’d never known such love.

I cradled you that day
And stroked your hair. Silently
Swallowing my pain.

Marveling at what I’d gained.
A man who cried for me.

Mandy Edwards (c) 2017


Forever Together

If we could be together
Would you hold me close
So I can hear your breath?


If we could be together,
Would you take my hand
And wipe away my tears?


If we could be together,
Would you keep me filled
With overflowing love?


If we cannot be together. Ever.
Will you slip into my heart
So I can feel you there,

Mandy Edwards (c) 2016

Man and Wife

I lie with you beneath this willow tree;
Whose viridescent branches hide us here,
And listen to the shrieks of surfers, free,
Unfettered by the burdens that we bear.
This gift of time allows my thoughts to ease.
I sigh; relax and watch you drift away,
Enchanted by the shadows of the leaves,
That dance upon your face in gleeful play.
I slow my heart in time to beat with yours,
And marvel at each gentle breath you take,
I feel the rising swell of inner shores,
And turn my back upon some distant ache.
For in this magic place no worldy strife,
Can take away our love as man and wife.

Mandy Edwards (c) 2015
(Edited version)

A child is born

The Christmas-story: a tale handed down,
After centuries of telling, still mystery bound.
Though full of conjecture it fills us with awe,
The little babe, Jesus, born in the straw.
Now hope germinates from the tiniest seed,
And for me this story’s not hard to believe.
For truth is found in the strangest of places,
And love always shines from the tiniest faces.
Mandy Edwards © 2016