The Dream Guy

ABSTRACT:  In the spring of 2010, right after the BP disaster happened in the Gulf, I had a dream.  In the dream, I “dreamed up” a song; it's the second time I composed a song in a dream.  I can’t explain that, but the dream ended up inspiring me to write a story I call “Sometime,” the same name I gave the song.  “Sometime” is included in a collection of short stories available on Amazon in eBook format and on CreateSpace in paperback.

The dream came to me during the big oil spill in the Gulf.  It hadn’t been capped off yet and it was spilling millions of gallons of oil into the sea.  Some tar balls of oil had been found in many places along the coast where it had washed up on the beach.  We all knew the oil was coming and we feared the worse.  In my dream, Robby maintained his usual positive attitude, however it started to get to him and he began to feel really bothered by it.  He went out and sat on the beach to be alone and think.  There was a tropical storm brewing out in the Caribbean and it was a little breezy.  He sat in the sand, up and a little back from the water’s edge, admiring the beauty of the ocean and listening to the breaking waves. He was sadly thinking about how he might never see it in this way again, when mysteriously, a woman walked into his view along the water’s edge.  Of course, she was beautiful; she wore a short white cotton dress; the breeze was flapping it gently against her small frame; her hair was dark and long and flowing, caressing her face.  She turned towards him and went to him because she knew of his sadness.  Robby, who was caught up in her beauty and mystic, rose as she neared him, letting her take his hand and lead him to the water’s edge.  There, they both stood, barefoot, facing the ocean.  She began to tell him that the oil mess would pass, that Mother Nature would win in the end.  She told him that he was a great man, doing great things and she wanted him to know everything would be alright.  Nature would have a way of working things out - sometime.  Species come and species go; humans are but just another species.  She held his head at her breast, comforting him.  He felt a strong driving connection with her; they became intimate, passionately undressing each other and falling to the sand, and they made love on the beach while the waves washed over and over them.  They lay together, spent, until the first light of day, when people started appearing further down the beach where the hotels were and it was more populated.  Robby and the woman got up and dressed, and as a small group of people gravitated closer, they recognized Robby.  He looked in their direction and politely smiled but when he looked back the woman was gone.  By now he knew his purpose and he felt peaceful and right about everything.  Later that afternoon, he sat in his hotel room with his guitar and wrote a song about it.

          The rest is not hard to guess.  Yes, I “thought up” another song in my dream!  I could hear every instrument and every harmony, melody or whatever they are called; I could hear it all at the same time all at once - I kid you not.  It was downright freaky.  I woke up and I wrote this one down as fast as I could and though I can still hear the tune, I do not know how to get it out of my head and on to paper and as far as me trying to sing it would be pathetic because, well, let's face it, I have no talent.  Especially for that.  Anyway here are the words to this song, for those who are still with me.  One might ask who was the woman in the dream?  She was me (but - the dream me, like the one who is absolutely gorgeous), but she was also Mother Nature and she was also the ocean.  A bazaar dream, and now, for the song:

by Robby Mansfield (a.k.a. The Dream Guy)

© 2010 by Karen Betty Roberts

I don’t know where she came from; I don’t know where she went.
I had so little time with her, but it was time that was well spent.
She took me by the hand and we went to the waters edge
She held me there so closely, her arms were cradling my head.
We both kissed there so willing as we dropped down from our feet

The ocean, it made love with us while we rolled around the beach.

I just want to see her
      I just want to see her

            I just want to see her again ___ I wanna see her again sometime.

Now the ocean’s churning oil and it washes from the deep
It’s all so black and ugly, I think of her and weep
Yeah, sometimes you feel so bad and sometimes it all seems dark.
But then she came along, and she touched me with her spark.
And as I laid there with her, there came the light of day

I don’t even know her name but I love her anyway.


But the lady’ll be around again touching with her soul
Then nature on this Earth will have a brand new goal
It’ll be a long time comin’ an’ we won’t see it from where we are
Long after we’re gone and lookin’ down from the stars
I don’t know where she came from; I don’t know where she went:
Our time is so short here we better make it time well spent.

fade out

¯ ¯ ¯

* Author’s note:  Robby Mansfield is a fictional character I made up and he appears off and on in my stories, and occasionally my stories are about him.  He is a rock star, a really, really sexy one; the kind that would make anyone want to be a groupie.  Don’t judge me, you have your fantasies – I’ll have mine.  Ahem, anyway, he is only a figment of my overactive imagination and I write about his rock star life based on what I know about being a big star, which is, basically, nothing.  However, I do know a little bit about guitar pickers, and following bands, and being behind the scenes.  I know what it feels like to be the girl with the lead singer, the girl all the other girls want to be (and I can spot you ladies from clear across the dance floor).  So, yes, my Robby character is based on my real Rob with a little imagination thrown in.  Incidentally, if you ever read my stories and you happen to be a big rock star and you feel I may have some wrong facts about the ‘business’ or what it’s like to be famous, I apologize.  Please let me know when we can get together and you can set me straight; I’ll buy lunch.

- Karen