I’m joining Cathy at Words and Herbs for her second annual Week of Flowers. She writes:
“Please join me in making December a bit brighter. From Wednesday, November 30th through Tuesday, December 6th, create a post. It can be one photo, or more if you like. You can post just one day or all seven. But do leave a link in the comments so that we can all see what you have found to share!”
Open to all… Let’s brighten up the blogosphere!
Image by Jan Mallander from Pixabay
The dead don’t talk, they don’t play games They walk through doors Somewhere a chain to bind them to time Over time the stories have grown To keep the local boys from playing in the old mill House Many have entered and never returned The towns folk say it should be pulled down The sea has tried to reclaim the old mill house It stands perilously at the edge of the land If you visit the grave of Tommy Wilson You lose the power of free will To plead with your mind would be useless You enter the old mill house, never to be seen again… ©AnitaDawes2022
Image by Neil Morrell from Pixabay
Again, in Dreams A black hood slipped over my head I was pushed gently forward Each step slow over cobbles, my feet slipping The sound changed Walls shot up either side of me My thinking as muffled as my breath The smell of damp mould an assault to my senses I can hear the dark wet walls breathing, whispering insanities Names waiting to be snatched from the air I was pushed on, falling My feet found no purchase Hands held my arms until I felt them drop away I was suspended for a while The hood removed I stood on the hallowed ground of the Tor The waters stopped their whispering I would walk this land again, in dreams… ©AnitaDawes2022
A wonderful poem for a very special place.
One of these days we will go back to Glastonbury and climb the hill to the Tor…
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“Few people know how to take a walk. The qualities are endurance, plain clothes, old shoes, an eye for nature, good humor, vast curiosity, good silence, and nothing too much.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
(art: Stephen Hanson)
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Text and image source: Ann Moore https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid0AaifZspY4C1LGfyUQBARhusU81SjZz5D2U123Pyfw2rSmqb5k3AqjHj6oZiM2tPBl&id=100057889158673
Keep your quotes together!
It’s a great way to keep your thoughts together.
I’m joining Cathy at Words and Herbs for her second annual Week of Flowers. She writes:
“Please join me in making December a bit brighter. From Wednesday, November 30th through Tuesday, December 6th, create a post. It can be one photo, or more if you like. You can post just one day or all seven. But do leave a link in the comments so that we can all see what you have found to share!”
Open to all… Let’s brighten up the blogosphere!
Greetings, Readers, One and All.
Welcome to the launch of Colleen Chesebro’s new book, a celebration of the winter season’s Fairies, Myths, & Magic. She’s the head poetess over at Word Craft Poetry (her blog), and she’s put me in the mood for a mug of eggnog, a sprig of mistletoe, and a warm fire. I have a review of her book below, but first, I’m turning the post over to Colleen.
Thank you, Diana, for the opportunity to share the news of my new book, just in time for the winter solstice and Yule.
In Fairies, Myths, & Magic II, I researched the mythologies of Yule and the winter solstice. I was surprised to learn how almost all cultures featured a myth about Yule and the winter solstice.
In the northern hemisphere, the date falls on December 21st or 22nd
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I am celebrating Day 2 of Cathy at Words and Herbs’ annual Week of Flowers meme with our wisteria at its peak, on what looks like a cloudless day in the middle of May.
Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay
The Mountain Imagination writes the tale I tell on this dusty road I stood captivated as I observed the glimmering light I walk forth, knowing there could be endless possibilities With the sun setting, the mountain lay under a pink cloud I was finding it hard to believe my own eyes My personal belief now suspended I stood in front of an unidentified flying object wondering at the mind of the engineer I have never seen silver so polished, no nuts or bolts A small door slid open, I blinked There she stood, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen She beckoned, without hesitation I walked to her Knowing I would leave this earth, And go wherever she would take me… ©AnitaDawes2022
Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie 