I trip over my own resolute stirrings,
denying that invisible string
binding heart and mind in union
An inward secret, a rich tapestry of dreamscapes.
Too late, my desire to become rich.
I keep the invitation I could not attend
hidden in my drawer.
I am no paragon. I am best at nothing.
In my hand I hold the black touch stone,
I am a glutton for more gold.
If I continue walking this path,
soon enough I will dig my way to my own grave…
© Anita Dawes 2021
ABOUT US: For those new to our website and blog, we would like to thank you for visiting. Between us, we write in several different genres, so there should be something for everyone to enjoy. Anita cannot abide computers, so I (Jaye) do all the technical (oily rag) stuff! Our books tend to be varied, from horror to supernatural romance and coming of age, and mystery thrillers. We try to keep our website interesting with guest posts, bloggers, poetry, and reviews for all the books we read. Our books are shown in the right-hand sidebar and clicking on the images should take you straight to Amazon.
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