Thursday, November 12, 2009

Twelve Dancing Princesses: 'Melissa'

dreamt I fell asleep over the story I was writing at the desk in the office of St. Clair Shores. (It is not a good sign when my own writing puts me to sleep!) Some snatches of music, drifting in from somewhere on the property, and a solitary giggle woke me. While I sat, blinking, I heard the giggle again, then again, and left the desk and my soporific story to investigate.

Out of the inn and across the lawn I stumbled to stand on the rock strewn shore, shivering and wondering what I was seeing. At first I saw only swaying lights - I counted a dozen - but I soon realized that the lights were mounted on small boats. I cannot say if the boats departed from the same place or not, nor can I say whether they had departed from the island I could so clearly see. All I know is that a dozen boats came over the water to settle on St. Clair Shores.

One by one each of the twelve princesses stepped from her boat to stand before me as if for inspection. I noted that while each princess was dressed in her own individual style all of the boats were swan boats. I was rather awed by the princesses and I probably stared too pointedly for too long, but they were kind and patient, thankfully.

When I found my voice I was horrified to hear myself, well, shriek in a horrid and unpleasant manner. I thought of just running away and when I turned to go I heard a swishing noise behind me. The river rocks felt different under my feet and when I looked down I discovered I had the legs and feet of a bird! I confess, I panicked. After some frenzied dancing and jerking, which amused the princesses enough to make them giggle, I figured out I had become a peacock! The swishing sound had been the wind through those magnificent tail feathers.

For whatever reason, once I had discerned my 'fowl' identity I marched off in the direction of the music, calling loudly as I did, the princesses in a line behind me. I watched them dance and dance, and when it was time I led them, each carrying her tattered shoes, back to their swan boats.
I do not know how everything shifted (I never do in these dreams), but I suddenly found myself outside the warehouse. The princesses arrived at the door, each in her own time, each pressing her thumb to that labyrinth symbol to gain entrance. When the door closed behind the last princess I stole up the spiral ladder and hid behind the roses to see what I might of the princesses. What I saw, however, was all those tattered soles lying amid discarded carousel horses.

I wonder what it means, if anything, that the horses were all either black or white? Hmmm ... This is intriguing. It seems almost as if the dream is a message to wake up from what I was trying to write and ... what? ... escort twelve dancing princesses to the ball, as a peacock? Can a woman even become a peacock - the ones with the gorgeous, magnificent tails are the males, aren't they?

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