“What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Each of us has an inner room where we can visit to be cleansed of fear-based thoughts and feelings. This room, the holy of holies, is a sanctuary of light. ” – Marianne Williamson

“Real healing happens when we dare to breathe in the universe, stretching both body and soul to reach for balance and truth. Sometimes, healing moments take forever to arrive. At other times, they fall in our laps with sheer grace, like a feather from an unseen bird.” – Kristina Turner

“The imagination is the spur of delights, all depends upon it, it is the mainspring of everything; now, is it not by means of the imagination one knows joy? Is it not of the imagination that the sharpest pleasures arise?” – Marquis De Sade

“It is good to be alone in a garden at dawn or dark so that all its shy presences may haunt you and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought.” – James Douglas

“Myth is the hidden part of every story, the buried part, the region that is still unexplored because there are as yet no words to enable us to get there. Myth is nourished by silence as well as by words.” – Italo Calvino

Hello everyone and welcome to another exciting round of the segment On Popular Demand. Due to receiving the highest number of votes our topic for this week is ‘The Hidden Realm.’ I found this to be quite interesting as it can relate to so many different things. It could refer to fantasy, perhaps an unknown land where myth and faeries prevail; it could also refer to a sanctuary or a safe haven where we like to retreat to when the times are tough. Tonight, I want each and every one of you to pen down the first thing that comes to mind when thinking about a hidden realm. Feel free to explore as the possibilities are endless. Previously written work is more than welcome. For further inspiration please refer to the four amazing poems below:

Safe Haven

by Dave BenOdafe

We all alike,
Crave for a nest to rest,
A place we could,
Cease to toil,
Never anxious, ever joyful,
Cause perfect peace in it resides,

A safe haven were respite is rife,
But where can we find
Such refuge to lounge,
When strife is the badge
We humans bear,
As our ev’ry search,
Into a blind alley leads,

But for you, a safe haven I’ll be,
So you can retreat,
Whenever the boisterous winds buffets,
And the temper of the tempest
Against you incense,
When frightened by the lightning spark,
Then you can in my arms hibernate,
Till the Spring springs forth,

I’ll be there to catch you when you fall
Will hold you till the fear in you subside,
In my heart, will I shield you
From the cold hostile street,
Lest nobody gets to you,

In this safe haven I thee create,
Time‘d cease to count,
As the world’s care doth echoes
From a million miles away,
The only sound you’ll hear
Would be the speechless
Banter of our hearts,
Conversing with each other
In the unknown tongue
Only another heart could understand,

As you lie here in my arms
The deafen quiet of our souls
‘d be beyond the world’s reach,
Here you’ll be safe
For nothing ‘d get to you,
Here you’re home

The Fairies

by William Allingham

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather!

Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.

High on the hill-top
The old King sits;
He is now so old and gray
He’s nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music
On cold starry nights
To sup with the Queen
Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back,
Between the night and morrow,
They thought that she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
Watching till she wake.

By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there.
If any man so daring
As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpest thorns
In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather!

Sunlit Sanctuary

by Julia Mainwaring

As sunlight sets the stream aglow,
Reflecting patterns on a stream,
And quiet ripples gently flow,
Making the water shine and gleam.

Reflecting patterns on a stream,
With misty haze from cooling spray,
Making the water shine and gleam,
As muted shadows softly play.

With misty haze from cooling spray,
Pure thoughts of peace caress my mind
As muted shadows softly play,
I leave life’s problems far behind.

Pure thoughts of peace caress my mind
A sanctuary of harmony,
I leave life’s problems far behind,
As summer plays her symphony.

A sanctuary of harmony,
My quiet refuge of release,
As summer plays her symphony,
I free my mind to feel her peace.

My quiet refuge of release,
As quiet ripples gently flow,
I free my mind to feel her peace,
As sunlight sets the stream aglow.

To Imagination

by  Emily Jane Bronte

When weary with the long day’s care,
And earthly change from pain to pain,
And lost and ready to despair,
Thy kind voice calls me back again:
Oh, my true friend! I am not lone,
While thou canst speak with such a tone!

So hopeless is the world without;
The world within I doubly prize;
Thy world, where guile, and hate, and doubt,
And cold suspicion never rise;
Where thou, and I, and Liberty,
Have undisputed sovereignty.

What matters it, that, all around,
Danger, and guilt, and darkness lie,
If but within our bosom’s bound
We hold a bright, untroubled sky,
Warm with ten thousand mingled rays
Of suns that know no winter days?

Reason, indeed, may oft complain
For Nature’s sad reality,
And tell the suffering heart, how vain
Its cherished dreams must always be;
And Truth may rudely trample down
The flowers of Fancy, newly-blown:

But, thou art ever there, to bring
The hovering vision back, and breathe
New glories o’er the blighted spring,
And call a lovelier Life from Death,
And whisper, with a voice divine,
Of real worlds, as bright as thine.

I trust not to thy phantom bliss,
Yet, still, in evening’s quiet hour,
With never-failing thankfulness,
I welcome thee, Benignant Power;
Sure solacer of human cares,
And sweeter hope, when hope despairs!


So pick up a pen and lets begin! As always the prompt will remain open the entire week so that everyone can write according to their own pace and time. Please click on the blue widget below. When it opens be sure to click on “add your link.” Now skip the blanks and proceed directly to “try here” written at the end in small font. It will direct you on how to link your poem. Please visit other Poets and do comment on their poems. Have fun ❤