Memories Poem by Candace Pfau

Magical Memories

Lovely little memories,
floating through my mind.
Sparkling bits of laughter,
Little drops of sadness,
rainbows full of joy.

Sweetly perfumed memories,
like violets in the grass,
a firefly out of nowhere,
leads me through the past.

Shooting stars are fleeting,
like loved ones long ago.
But they are magical memories,
because we make them so.

Thoughts Poem by Candace Pfau

Tracing Thoughts

Skywriting my thought’s in
the sky,
I think, your thought’s,
you retrieve mine from power’s on high,
Not a word is spoken but energy
given and energy received.

Million’s of pure thought’s
count as one cosmic prayer,
You spoke, as if you heard
the unspoken,
I answered and sacred energy
flowed between,
Tracing thought’s
So much yet to be seen.

Fairy Poem by Candace Pfau

The Fairy Circle

Standing in the fairy circle,
wearing just the color Purple,
Buttercups for my hat,
Perwinkles on which I sat.

Butterbyes put on a show,
fireflies dance and glow,
and all around me fairy,
song, music like a blowing
wind chime.

All around me Fairies
Purple, Silver, Rainbow
They call me by name.

Daylight comes,
They disappear,
I search under leaf,
flower, hunting out
their secret bower.

But they are gone,
to my dismay,
Maybe tomorrow they
will come to play.

Whispers Poem by Candace Pfau


Whispers in my ear, as I drift off
to sleep.
Fleeting glimpse’s of a fate I can’t
quite see.
Memories of olden time’s as I open up
my eye’s.
I try to pull them in, but the darkness
take’s them back.
Another world, another life, another place,
a timeless space.
Do we travel, when we sleep,
my dream’s say yes, my heart say’s

Invisible Mystery Friends New Orleans Ghosts Poem by Dandelion de la Rue

Invisible Mystery Friends
Dandelion de la Rue

Remembering days and nights
of wandering through
criss cross designs of
water vapor and
other disembodied energies
thick with the
ghosts and spirits
of Old New Orleans.
I felt their
kinship with me
their embrace
their music
I heard and felt
their songs
around me
over me
in me
They walked my walk
As I walked theirs
and it was
I felt that
I belonged.

Are they lonely
in abandoned
buildings empty
Do they see
the stricken place
it is today
or the magic streets
that they once
walked alone
loving the city
and being loved
the living and
the dead alike.
Where will we gather
now, for bidimensional