Angel…

 

 

statue-4255695__340.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Angel

She kissed my cheek

Whispered goodbye

Thinking I was sleeping

Her scent lay on my pillow

My heart knew that would be

The last time I feel her touch

I turned to watch her walk away

I had given her all I could

I had nothing left to hold her

My angel of the night…

Anita Signature

Searching…

 

birds-4057261__340.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Searching

From the moment I set eyes on her

I knew my heart would be broken

She is searching for something

I suspect this has been all her life

Waiting to find that perfect moment

That feeling of having found something sacred

Our life together, my love for her, is never enough

Her art comes first, she needs more

Something is haunting her

Like the legendary thorn bird

Searching for the perfect thorn to impale itself upon

That one moment has come when he sings

Dying in agony

The one song held all his life is sung

The most beautiful the world has ever heard

So beautiful, the wind held its breath

Must the best of something

Come at such a great cost?

I will do all I can

To prevent my love from losing herself

I shall not let her follow the thorn bird…

Anita Signature

Star… #Poetry

 

 

moon-2728183_960_720.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

My shooting star

I kiss your fire as we ride the wild wind

Hold you close until the light fades

We fall from the stars into the desert sands

Where the wild rose blooms

Until we die to become the butterfly

I don’t want to be nothing without you…

Anita Signature

#Writephoto ~ Castle

Thursday photo prompt: Castle #writephoto

 

 

Image by scvincent.com

 

 

Ghosts…

Blue purple clouds above the castle dark

My body lying in the silver water below

My soul trapped within black castle walls

I wait, a ghost you cannot see.

The chains that held me,

hang against damp walls

My tormentors long gone, a forgotten time

Damp walls pulse with remembered pain

There are few visitors to this dark place

They never come twice

Strange feelings creep into the skin

They carry them away for a few weeks

My hope is one visitor will see me

Hear my whispered voice

They can read about my plight

In a paperback novel.

I need someone sensitive

to the horrors of this place

to feel my presence

lay flowers on the silver waters outside

reunite soul and body, help me move on

to pray for the ghost, they cannot see…

Anita Signature

#Jaye’s Journal… week 28

Jaye's Journal x12

 

Beaten by a Tree!

 

I failed to rescue the oak sapling.

 

 

DSCF3167 (2).JPG

The oak sapling!

 

I tried my best but as I hacked away at the weeds surrounding it, it became apparent that it would not be an easy task.

We had always called it a sapling for it was only a foot high, completely forgetting how many times it had been cut back over the years.

I discovered that the base of this tree was very large and mostly rotten. It was also growing so close to the wall and I suspected the roots would be entangled in the brickwork.

But was I disheartened?

Not even a little bit. This is where being stubborn can pay dividends, but whether this would be a good day for stubbornness remained to be seen.

I dug a trench around the tree, severing several rather large tap roots in the process.  These would not be needed if I succeeded in creating a bonsai out of it. Tap roots are mainly for stability, and it’s the fine fibrous roots you need to protect.

When I tried to lever the root ball out of the hole with my trusty garden fork, it wouldn’t budge. Doubt began to sink in, nudging my determination to one side, so I tried to tug at it with all my strength, just to see some kind of movement. Anything to justify digging deeper.

This is when my determination failed, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to save this tree. It had been there too long and probably had tap roots in Australia.

I felt very sad at this point, for the tree would have to removed somehow, probably in pieces before it brought the wall down. But if my detemination pays another visit, I may have another go!

The wall in question was probably as old as our house, built in 1887 so saving it was more important than anything I wanted to do with the oak. (at least, that’s what common sense was telling me!)

******

Todays disapointment reminded me of another one of my failures, one even sadder that happened several years ago. I tried to rescue a beautiful red acer from a demolition site. I couldn’t bear the thought of it being mown down by a bulldozer, so asked the builder in charge if he minded my removing it.  I knew it would be difficult, for whoever planted it had built a rockery around it, creating quite a lovely Chinese garden.

But before I could get started, the helpful builder took it upon himself to rip it up and present it to me, so proud of his handy work.

It hung there in his hand, already limp, the roots bare and damaged and I knew he had probably just killed it.

I did my best for that tree, carefully planted it in the best soil. I kept it in the shade and misted the leaves regularly to help it recover. Gradually, despite my efforts, I watched it die and all my prayers and efforts came to nothing.

I think a little piece of me died that day too…

AAA (2)

Colour Me… #Poetry

om-1769652__340.png

Image by Pixabay.com

Colour Me

My thoughts take on a different colour

Depending on the words or who is speaking

A child can come across as pink and fluffy

Other times crazy, like a kaleidoscope

Full of wonders, possibilities

Speak too fast and the colours spar

Like a fuse about to blow

Angry voices bring dark storm clouds

Across windswept seas, lightning flashing

Lovers whispering on a park bench

In purple twists of blue swirling patterns

Joined in harmony, floating like smoke on the wind

When they kiss, I see a river of lights?

A festival of love

Bird song, a touch of stardust laced with moon beams

I care not that people think me a loon

This is how I see my world…

Anita Signature