Wednesday, August 5, 2009


Once upon a time there were two Princesses,
Princess Rachel and Princess Riley.
They went out to play one day
and a most unusual thing happened...

They met another Princess.
She was see-through,
with wisps of cloud and sunlight for hair,
shining every color of the rainbow,
her dress a silver green swirl
of leaves from the Silver Oak.

She was Princess Breeze,
and she asked them to play with her.
Princess Breeze picked them up,
and whisked them away
from the Summer Lands in the southeast,
and carried them all the way to the lefthand coast.
All the way up, to the high, dry desert,
and down to the Giant Redwoods,
and beyond.

Princess Breeze carried them to cousins,
aunts and uncles,
family dogs and cats,
pet spiders,
(to which they said yuck, because they were on the walls and not in cages)
and a little secret room with candles
and an abalone shell for burning sage and sweet grass.

They saw big cities,
and open country, rivers, the ocean
and clouds,(Princess Breeze's cousins).
They climbed high mountain peaks,
then rushing whitewater they rafted,
with Breeze close behind.
Lava Buttes and chipmunk snoots
where all on the agenda.
But all to soon, Breeze's Mother, the Moon,
called her home from the west.

She carried them back,
Princess Rachel and Princess Riley,
to the land where the sun shines hot,
where the turtle hides
and the alligator glides
and pink flamingos dance.

Yes, she carried them home,
their bag of memories held tight
never to be forgotten.
They slept that night and day,
for it was hard play,
waking with smiles and laughter.

(c) 8.4.09
Linda McGeary
The Princesses Aunt

Monday, August 3, 2009


Conscious to be, to redeem,
find my peace, my place.

Living the Hero's dream,
feeling love shine on my face.

The release of creative flow,
finding riches within,

connect, merge, know
Divine, kith and kin.

Inner work Ocean Deep,
fearlessness out to the world.

Mansion rooms of Seashell Treasures, to keep
and give away. Peace, strength, magic swirled

together within one thing, a tether,
facing all fires, all fears.

Rising on the tide of heat, like a feather,
cresting the current of the years.

Linda McGeary