THE POET DREAMS This volume of poems contains dreams and metaphors that distill reality. They are part of the poets life experience, of having been born in Germany and lived in various different countries in the world. Live events, such as being re-rooted in the USA as well as in Asian soil, served to sharpen the poet's perspective. Included in the collection are also war time cameos as perhaps a child envisions them. The author now resides in the country. Her home overlooks the tiny village of Swedish-founded Vasa, providing her with the peace and contemplation necessary for sorting through the work, accumulated over a number of years. Below are two samples of her poetry. Hierarchy In a familiar room with a fine dark, shiny polished table I sit and play with my soft haired child. The older women, fair skinned like the child, are watchful and stoic, blue-frozen the hunger in their eyes. The child, my daughter, suddenly barrages me with willful embraces, and wild stubborn kisses. Hope wakens, shy like apple blossoms, and I press her close; our pulses beat as one, 'til I look up and anxiously meet the ice blue gaze of the older women. I feel the girl child in my arms turn limp and then, silently, slip from my grasp. Funeral Rite They have killed her, those mourners in black. Their tragedy deeply veiled, they look at the sprightly child laid out in her white first communion dress, a wreath of daisies in her hair, at the child they have smothered. She is gone from them, forever, and they must hide such loss behind their frozen faces. But I carry her marble coffin, ornate with calla lilies, in my heart.