Cold… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

Cold

Frost white morning

I slip my head beneath my duvet

No way are my feet moving

From this warm cover

Today I stay hidden from the world

To dream of things to come

A future made of stardust

 With bright green jewels

A land where you leave a wish

Knowing it will come true…

©anitadawes 2020

The 2.40… #Poetry

 

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Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

 

My father, a staunch academic that never flaps.

At breakfast, I met a stranger at the table

He spoke at a speed I had never heard before

I could see a hint of panic in his eyes.

He didn’t ask, so much as forbid me

to take the 2.40 train from Paddington.

Asking why his voice became calmer

I don’t know if you have heard this story

Or remember it from the newspapers

One year ago, a young man just turned eighteen

died on that train in the third carriage

It’s said he may return on the anniversary of his death

To sit in the same seat for three weeks

In the hope of finding the part of self

we all leave behind on being born.

He waits for the other half, the missing piece

To sit on the seat opposite the door.

When the right person takes that seat

He becomes whole, having entered the sitter.

There are many tales of what takes place next

You have just turned eighteen, I am asking you please,

Take the earlier train to your next job?

Seeing how much this meant to my father

I agreed, and kissing his cheek, I left for work

I felt a little odd approaching the station

Standing close to the edge of the platform

I waited that afternoon for the 2.40.

I remember asking my father why I couldn’t just

Take my journey in the second car

Father said it was best to avoid the 2.40 all together

As curiosity gets the best of some people.

I could hear the train approaching

I stood where the third car would stop

I could see a grey outline of someone sitting

in the seat Father mentioned

There were no discernible features to this mass

Shaking my head, thinking my father’s story

Must have gotten into my mind

I felt a connection, a longing, something remembered

I remembered my father saying that a soul mate

Was not someone you search for in life

It’s the missing part of self.

I knew what this meant, for I had often felt

Lost lonely unsure even when falling

in love with a boy from College

A few minutes of happiness that doesn’t last

Leaving me with the feeling of being unwhole.

Now that I have felt that missing part

I would break my word

I will sit in that seat tomorrow at 2.40

Let the missing part enter

See what life will bring…

©anitadawes 2020

Circle… #Poetry

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Image by Pixabay.com

Circle

Old stories whispered on wet afternoons

Do they contain a kernel of truth?

Are the stones more than man has made?

Late at night when the moon is full

Energy pulled from the stones

Blue flickering light

Can the fate of Merlin be seen?

Dancing in the circle?

I see mischief by magic made…

©anitadawes 2020

#Keepitalive #Whatdoyousee #Poetry

What do you see # 12- January 13th, 2020

 

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Image credit; Flickr

 

When miraculous things happen

the mind screams in disbelief

while lying in a meadow

the summer sun striking the daisies gold

There he stood, the unicorn from my scrapbook

Alive in splendour, his flowing mane and tail

white and gold, blue eyes that cannot be forgotten

He moved towards me his thoughts inside my head

“Come follow me, stay awhile in my world.”

That’s when I heard the warning bell

The land of the fey is no place

for mortals to stay too long

To eat their food is to lose your soul,

lose time in your own world

Your family thinking you lost, move on,

grow older while you stay the same

Should I risk one minute

in this Alice in Wonderland moment?

My heart said yes, my mind said no

Keep your childhood wonders in picture form

Get up, run for home…

©anitadawes 2020

My Head… #Poetry

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Image by photosforyou from Pixabay

My Head

I hear you whispering

Inside my head

As if you think I’m dead

Have I lost all sense of reality?

Did the bell toll for me

Am I taken to a new realm?

If I could turn up the sound of your voice

Would you tell me

I died while sleeping and

The bell did toll loud and clear for me…

©anitadawes 2020

#Writephoto ~ Presence #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Presence #writephoto

 

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Image by scvincent.com

 

Dreaming

I am lost in dreaming

The feel of your hand in mine

Dark lonely nights remembered

Inside the tall grey stone

Our time has fled

The circle closing

Ancestors whispering

Their footsteps echo back in time

I see them still

When the mist is rising

Happy, smiling,

their tall grey sentinels protecting

a way of life no longer remembered

scant mention in printed substance

should you visit the stones

you will find us here

a sudden breeze, a warmth

a whispered song

a sudden shimmer of grey

around the standing stones

don’t say, am I only dreaming…

©anitadawes

#writephoto

Butterfly Cinquain by Anita

We noticed a lovely Butterfly Cinquain on Colleen Chesebro’s site this morning, you can see it here further down the page.

Anita liked it so much, she wrote one of her own…

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Image by Karsten Paulick from Pixabay

 

Butterfly Cinquain

Soft hands

One touch, last touch

Love lost in memory

Cold pillow wet, by midnight tears

Heart broke

Only touch again in dreaming

Lips to meet in shadows

Sunlight removes

Lost hands

©anitadawes

#Keepitalive #Whatdoyousee #Poetry

What do you see # 11 – January 6th, 2020

 

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Free image on Pixabay

Time

I have come a long way on liquid light

To find this old castle

Is it the one I’m looking for?

Will this burning path lead me

Out of its dark walls

To a world outside I remember

Lush green trees, rolling hills

My home beside the sea

Will it be as it once was?

Companionship, love and laughter

Will I finally be able to place the sword

Back in his hands where it belongs?

Are they still there, or must I journey on?

To find the Lady of the Lake

To throw the sword again

into its dark watery world

to wait for time to turn back…

©anitadawes

 

It’s lonely out here in the inter-ether…Talk to me people!