Memories of a dead Poet

CHAPTER ONE:

She let herself slip into a slow hypnotic trance, " Three, Two, One ... OK Now Beth tell me where you are right now? " the therapists soothing velvet voice asked.

" My dear sir, I don't Know who Beth is, " came the reply In a heavy french accent.

" well who are you ?" he asked.

" I am Laura DeWitt, Sir Whom are you?" came a snobbish reply.

" what year is it Laura?" Mr. Wade calmly asked his patient lying on the couch in front of him.

" why it's 1822, sir what year did you suppose it was? "

" Laura tell me a little about yourself as it seems i have mistaken you for a friend of mine? " Mr. Wade asked.

" My dear sir, you shan't have not known me, I am The only female poet in these parts."

The reply had been right on Que for the train of thoughts that Mr. Wade had floating around.

" Laura, Tell me about your life up till now, How old are you? " Dr. Wade inquired of the young woman in a hypnotic trance.

" Well I am Laura DeWitt, I am 16 years old. I live in New york City. My parents gave me permission to marry my dearest love last month. I was born in Paris France in 1806. My father is a well known romance novel writer and mother is as opera singer." Beth's Voice trailed off.

“ Now Laura we are going to go forward in time a few more years, at three you will be exactly 5 years older.” Dr. wade instructed “ Three, Two, One... now Laura tell me how old are you?

“ I am 21 sir. Why are you asking me these questions?” she asked.

“ Laura, Tell me about your life now? “ he probed curious to see what

she would say next.

“ I am too young to be a widow, but my love was murdered Two years ago. A lonely life it is dear sir, yet My writing career is at a great point. I have no shortage of perspective suitors but alas I want to remain alone with my muse.” she told Dr wade.

“ do you have any children Mrs. DeWitt?” he asked.

“ why yes I do she is Three years old, and the image of beauty.” Beth replied. “ Her name is Guinevere Dawn DeWitt.”

“ Now Laura on three we are going to go to The last day of your life,

Three, Two, One. Now Laura how old are you? “ Dr. Wade asked her.

“ I am a young 42, wow to see this world as far as we come. 1848 will be a great year for poetry I can feel it.” she began.” Guinevere has grown so much. She is 24 and quite a striking woman. Her father would be so proud, she has become a Doctor.” Beth explained.

“ Laura what is today's date?” Dr. Wade asked, Having already Known what day the poet died.

“ well, I do believe it is May 23, 1848. “ she had told him the exact day that the legendary poet was murdered.

“ Tell me what is going on in detail please” he asked.

“Well, I have been shopping in down town today but I feel as if I am being followed. Last couple of weeks a man has been following me. The police said they were on it so I see no need to panic yet. “ she explained.

“ OK Laura when I count to three you will wake feeling rested but

remembering all that has happened. One, Two, Three. “ Dr. Wade

brought Beth out of hypnosis

“ what the hell was that? There is no way this is true?” Beth's obvious distaste sounding in her questions.

“ Beth, It is possible for you to regress to a past life we are going to continue our sessions for a while and see how far we can get OK ?” Dr. Wade comforted Beth.

“ But, this isn't possible, is it?” she asked confused.

“ if you mean does it exist? Why yes it does dear. Do you Know who this person was? “ he asked her.

“ I know she was a famous poet but not much other than that. Dr. I just write poetry I really don't read it. “ she replied with a heavy sigh. Her mind heavy with

torment over the sessions revelations.

“ well if you are free Friday at 3 pm we will start again there OK?” he asked her.

“ sure I'll be here “ she replied rather shortly. Her tall lean frame now standing as she gathered her purse and jacket to leave the office.

“ OK dear look forward to seeing you then” he told her. Still puzzled at this new case he couldn't wait to dive into it. Ben Wade has always been interested in the afterlife and past lives. He was considered a for most authority on the matter. What a revelation he told himself as he began to ready himself for his next appointment.

The whole way home Beth wondered if that was why she was a poet now? She

decided to look up Laura Dewitt's poetry and compare it to her own. Years ago when she started writing poetry she hadn't really liked reading it just writing it, Now she was confused and bewildered.

As she pulled up into her driveway she let out a deep sigh “ ah the best house there is “ she said with a smile. For her vast income it was considered quite small but the old Victorian style house on Elm Street was exactly what she enjoyed. The two story home was built in 1895 by the Jones family, it was a piece of history that she loved.

It's large stone frame, had the color of a dark Grey with white trim. Large stain glass windowed doors led into it's grand foyer. The front porch had been kept as original stained cherry wood. The house had mahogany floors through out it, with wall paper from the period of the 1890's to early 1900's. It's crown molding and carvings were hand done. She always thought they were fit for a queen. “ a definite treasure “ is how the realtor described this hidden jewel named “ Briar rose “ for the roses that filled the front Along side the large circle drive way. Briar rose sat on 4 full acres of land, complete with gardens, stables and pond.

Due to the enormous amount of property Beth had hired a gardener, a horse trainer and a house keeper. Although she rather enjoyed doing yard work and house work. She had decided to hire them to be able to focus on her writing. After all in her debut book “ For those I cherish” she had been called the newest legend of modern day poetry. One critic had actually compared her to Edgar Allen Poe himself saying “ she has the ability to capture the sorrow of human emotions into words and make the hardest heart cry, at the same time she can capture utter divine joy and bring the devil himself to Christ's glory”. Beth wasn't too sure about that but it felt real good though.

“ Hello Ms Beth would you require lunch in your study “ Allison the Housekeeper asked her as she walked into the house.

“ oh I think I'll take it in the study dear thanks” Beth responded as she began looking through her mail. “Hmm.... Junk mail. Junk mail and more junk mail “ she thought.

As she walked towards her study she stopped to gaze at the Portrait of her Mother, Barbara, She did miss her so much. But she always wondered how her mom had gotten someone to paint a picture of herself.

Sitting down Beth started her Computer. As she started to write a note about her publisher needing her finished second book soon, she started her internet search for poetry by Laura Dewitt. One Poem caught her eye as she clicked on it to read it.

“ Remembering You”

By Laura DeWitt

My dearest love, oh how my heart soul and body ache

To see you, hold you within these arms, for my love to take.

Souls entwined, Holding our dreams.

But you are gone, never to realize them it seems.

So I'll live out my path.

As our lord would have.

Then when I too must go,

Your love again I will Know.

September 10, 1824

Buffalo New York USA

“ wow” she thought to herself as the housekeeper brought her lunch in to her.