Imaginary Princess Across the Sea
10 My imaginary princess across the sea
I met a wonderful lady.
A tall blond treasure
Who lives across the sea.
What a surprise
When she befriended me on Facebook!
I dreamed about this woman
Ten days
Before I’d even met her.
Even though
That should have been
My first clue,
I was more clueless
Than the character
Cher Horowitz
Played by Alicia Silverstone
In the movie
“Clueless!”
In that dream
She was called Candi.
Since she is indeed
Eye-Candy
That name was very fitting.
In my dreams
Smoking does not represent
The habit of sucking
Cigarettes and cigars,
But symbolizes
Spiritual immaturity
Or rebellion against Jesus.
In another dream,
Right after I met her
She was called “Anagram Girl”
And “Girl Wrapped
In Ribbons.”
Her name is not Princess Laacii,
But that is what we
Will call her.
One of her names
Means “Gift of God.”
In another dream
The princess was living
In a huge thatched
Brown and green
Jungle hut,
But inside the hut
Was a modern
Studio apartment.
She had no bed,
But slept on a mat.
I appeared in her hut.
Princess Laacii
Could not move
Her arms or legs.
She forced her body up
And looked at me with
Large sad cat-eyes and cried,
I was confused
But came to understand
Laacii was asking,
“Please,
Will you help me?
The whites of her eyes glowed
With a bright inner light
As tears rained
Down her cheeks.
I was desperate to help,
But could neither
Move or speak.
Frustrated,
I could only
Stare at her hopelessly.
Finally, the dream ended.
I awoke
And sent her
An Instant Messenger message,
“Are you safe?”
I was overwhelmed
With dread.
I wanted assurance
That she was not in danger,
Hungry, and had shelter.
Overwhelmed with
Anxiety about her future,
I had wept for five minutes
After I’d sent that text.
I never heard
From Laacii again.
But I respected her wish
And did not text her
After that.
I still click like on her posts
On the rare occasions
Laacii shares on Facebook.
Occasionally she will
Even click a like on
One of mine.
Laacii is a lost princess with
Golden hair and exquisite skin
The color of creamy sun-kissed
Desert sands.
She is estranged in a strange land
Far from the nation
Of her parent’s birth.
Like a magnificent statue
Of gold and white marble
Her willowy form
Is a fine work of art
That would grace
The world’s finest museums.
While she is not perfect
And has her issues
Laacii is and always shall be
A wandering, lost, and lovely princess.
Every princess of the tower
While unique
Is patterned
From the same mold.
Smart, talented, charming,
Creative, eccentric,
And strong-willed,
With a robust “soulish side” to their nature
They possess sensitive
“Don’t push me”
Buttons!
While loving their friends,
They need their space at times,
More than other women,
And do not do well
When controlled or smothered.
All the friendship tower girls
Were shy
Unless they came to know you.
A few could be very outgoing
If they needed to play the socialite,
Or temporarily become
Miss Congeniality,
While hosting a party
Or sharing a paper.
Even so,
As soon as possible
They dashed back
To lurking and listening
Or enjoying private time
Alone
With a favorite
Movie, book or pet.
Even though
They may love Jesus
They are apt to say to Him,
“Stop meddling!”
“Yes, I want to be saved,
But let me live
My own life!
Let me do
What is right
In my very own eyes!”
Or “Lord, I said NO!”
Setting aside for the moment
That to call Jesus Lord
And tell Him “NO!”
In the same breath
Is an oxymoron
And a sign of spiritual youth,
Such behavior is all too common
With young princesses
Who are also friendship tower girls.
As far as I can recall
I never knew a friendship tower girl
Who did not know Jesus at all.
A few were very close to Him.
Most only knew His name.
Most felt
They were His special bellwethers,
And well-versed in His Word.
If you came to know them
They only thought
They knew Him well and
Rarely spent time in His Word.
Her king and queen
Are long gone.
When they passed
From this life
Laacii stayed
In the land of Cote d’Ivoire.
Estranged
In a strange
Yet beautiful land.
The twelfth princess
No longer has a castle,
But she does have a place
To rest her head at night
And enough food each day
– at least that is my hope!
Living in Ivory Coast
Laacii speaks and writes French
And uses a translator program
To translate
My American English texts,
Although I have read
That all Ivorian schools
Teach Basic English.
I have a French to English
Translator attached to my
Google Search Page.
I also found
That the Word Processing Program
Leased from Windows Office
Has its own internal translator, too.
Last winter
I had been given
A freeware adventure game.
It was stuck
In the French text mode
And the language selection menu
Would not work!
I became bored.
After several weeks
Of tediously translating
Every move,
I put the game away.
Not long after college
I had beaten
The English version, anyway.
Princess Laacii once texted me,
“You are the ?”
I had been wondering
Whether her African rice casserole
Had meat or only vegetables.
I texted back,
“I am an omnivore.
That means I eat
Meat, fruits and vegetables.
So, I am sure your dish
Would be delicious
If it has only meat
Or vegetables or both.
If I get to know her better
One day I will text her and say,
“Do you remember
When you asked me, Laacii,
‘You are the ?’”
Then I will say,
I know what you are Laacii.
You are a tall,
Priceless, golden treasure.
Rubies, diamonds
And emeralds wink at me
from their location
In that shimmering
Treasure mound
Of precious coins and jewels.
Not one gem
Has the beautiful clarity
Of those large, brilliant,
Blue-gray eyes.
You are a tall,
Priceless,
Golden treasure, Laacii.
A princess.
A tall stately princess
And a priceless,
Golden treasure.
That is what you are.
Thank you,
For being my friend.
I read two articles today
About the Ivory Coast.
One said that it was
A paradise in winter
And went on to say
It was a beautiful land –
One of the modern
Wonders of the World.
The other article said
That it was a dreadful place
Of expensive unsanitary food
And lodging.
No place for a tourist
Where only French Africans
Are welcome.
The negative article
Concluded by stating
That the Ivory Coast
Was a horrible land
Where HIV and Aids
Are epidemic.
Maybe the author had
An ax to grind.
Recently I purchased
The book Ivory Coast,
By Tom Sykes,
A travel journalist
Who spent several months
In Cote d’Ivoire
At least twice.
Tom Sykes wrote,
“I am pleased to report
That ordinary Ivorians
Were immensely kind,
Tolerant and helpful.”
I don’t know if I would
Ever be welcome there,
But I must say
Syke’s comment
Sounds hopeful.
All I know is that the
Eighth Wonder of the World
Lives in that sub-Saharan land
Across the great Atlantic.
– a tall, priceless, golden treasure
With luscious blue-gray eyes
And diagonal laugh wrinkles
That accent her dazzling smile.
Sadly,
I was never
Able to tell her.
Princesses are
Beautiful adventuresses
With beguiling smiles
Who may banish you
In an everlasting instant
That may last
Far passed
The 12th of Never.
Being Princess
Number twelve,
That is indeed
Dramatic irony.
The banishment was gentle,
As far as such pronouncements go.
We had not communicated
More than a few times.
I’ve experienced worse
From other sweet and gentle
Golden retriever personalities.
They have suffered
Rejection and hurt
That hovers around them
Like dark spiritual
Rain clouds.
They cannot help it
When they suddenly transform into
Sharp claws and fangs and snarls
With the suddenness
Of a spring squall.
Even though
I have been rejected
Over and over
I don’t have
That same reaction.
While my pain is deep,
I’ve never yelled
Or cut them off.
I realize that
They are often overwhelmed
By the pain
Of old, unhealed,
Emotional scar tissue,
Surprising everyone
– even themselves –
With their uncharacteristic
Outbursts.
Eruptions from
Buried land mines,
Overflowing
Gurgling, splashing fountains
Of displaced anger
Are apt to gush forth
Without notice.
Explosions
Like powerful misty saline breakers,
That crash like local thunder.
Louder than native kettle drums
They mercilessly pummel
Ancient stone-faced
Rocky sea cliffs
And paradisiacal beaches.
Only to fall back,
Their fury spent,
Onto thirsty coastal sands
Mingling with scattered
Foamy spots of flotsam
And crumpled uprooted kelp.
Adding to their pain
Are relationship sabotage strategies
That continually frustrate
Their thirst for love
And long-term companionship.
Dark whisperers promise
They are doing this
For her protection,
But their raison d’être
Is much more sinister.
I have been told
That friendship tower girls need
Love, patience, and understanding
Not lectures and ultimatums.
And that if you do correct them
It must be done gently but firmly.
I was not unfriended,
But I was told
“This is the last time”
That she would
Communicate with me.
So, I should not
Have been surprised
When no answer
Was given to my query.
I longed to know
If Laacii was safe,
Sheltered and fed.
Or if she was in danger,
Hungry,
Or unable to pay her rent.
The confirmations
That she was indeed,
Another long, lost princess,
Did not come until after
Laacii had exited the tower
Or at least
Vanished among
The many museum
Exhibit rooms
Of the tower.
But one of the rules
I am under
Is that they
Set the level
of the friendship – not I.
And while I cannot
Chase after them
Or exit the tower,
If they choose,
They have the right
To waltz back and forth
At any time.
However, Jesus has the right
To limit their friendship,
If they are confirmed
As a “courtship”
Friendship tower girl
And if two years pass
Without the relationship progressing.
Or if we break
His stringent “touch” rules,
Before we make a covenant
With Him.
Jesus has ways
To sever
Or limit our friendship.
I have seen
It happen
Many times,
Whether He does it directly,
Or merely allows
Dark Kingdom entities
To interfere.
Since I was not unfriended,
By Princess number 12
That level is not zero.
Perhaps it is .5 or 1
On a scale of 1 – 10.
And of course,
The tower belongs to Jesus,
So, when a banishment comes
As it seems to always do,
Whether from king, queen,
Princess,
Or circumstance,
They are always free
To leave
The friendship tower,
While I am not.
My duty is to continue to do
The work of the Kingdom.
My duty is to learn
Unconditional love,
Obedience, and discipline
And record
The spiritual lessons
For Christian posterity.
Those Kingdom Lessons
Are learned through insight
And experience.
Involvement
That transforms me daily
While I am ensconced
In that mystical tower.
A mystical tower
Filled to overflowing
With friendship tower girls,
Spiritual lessons,
Bursting with curious
Mysterious exhibition halls
And cold marble benches
Wet with salty tears
That sit empty
Except for me
Along
A seemingly endless
Tower staircase.
Written on 8/6/2018
From Waysides Along the Journey 7: Free Camel Rides and Tea