Earth
Raindrops dancing, shimmering
Fairy lights on bare branches
Each drop a frozen pearl
A time capsule
That has roamed the Universe eternal
Returning to touch
each part of our growing world
to keep Earth in beauty
for us to walk upon…
exploring
#Keepitalive ~#Whatdoyousee #Poetry
What do you see # 7
Week 7 in the tribute to the memory of our dear Hélène, from Willow Poetry and the image this week is one she would have loved.
Image credit; Pinterest
No Return
Out fishing with my dad,
Mum would be waiting to cook our catch
I remember falling overboard
Then nothing until I woke
On this small boat
With a black hooded figure
That refused to answer my questions
I had read stories about the ferryman
I felt I shiver as the boat moved slow
Gracefully through the water
Not a sound. The silence beat at my eardrums
A maddening sound
If I must stay here too long
I’m sure I would lose my mind
I stood behind him
Facing the way we might have come in
To this blue cavern
That’s when I remembered the legend
I believed it to be one of dad’s tall tales
The blue hall of Odin he called it
The ferryman looks for Odin’s lost son
If this it, why am I here in the hall
Of the one-eyed God?
With his eight-legged horse
His spear that never misses its mark
What need would he have of me?
Not yet fourteen?
Maybe, they, whoever they might be
Will throw me back, like the small fish
That dad and I do.
Mum wouldn’t want to cook those, he’d say
I knew better. He wouldn’t take the small ones
He liked to give things a fighting chance
I could do with him beside me now
I hadn’t noticed the silence had been replaced
By voices whispering slowly,
I heard the words, ‘Go tell Odin he is here.’
I’m sure he knows; he is a God after all
He gave his eye for wisdom
And must know what’s going on
The ferryman stopped the boat
Beside white marble stairs
The mist disappeared
I felt my eyes pop out on stalks
If mum were here, she’d tell me not to stare
Men and women stood smiling
They seemed to know I was coming
Unexpected
It felt strange, as though I had left part of me behind
one I would never see again
The small gathering parted and there he stood,
spear in hand, gold cover over his left eye
‘At last my son, we have found you,
It’s time. I need you to stand beside me.’
That’s when I realised, I was never going home
I had become a demigod
Not bad for a fourteen-year-old kid from the sticks…
©anitadawes
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#Silent Sunday…
Today, I am revisiting one of my favourite places, Southsea Rock Garden on the south coast of the UK.
Right on the seafront and built on many levels, its a delightful place to spend an hour or two…
Image by Jaye Marie
Image by Jaye Marie
Thank you for dropping by, without you, it wouldn’t be as much fun!
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This week on Streets Ahead ~ Wisp by Adele Marie Park
This week on Streets Ahead we’re promoting Adele Park’s fantasy novel ‘Wisp:
Edra; a world where magic flourishes and where dark secrets are concealed by those who rule. Secrets which can get the innocent killed without a thought.
When the body of an elf is discovered in a treacherous area of the city, Wisp a young Law Enforcer is assigned the case. He soon realises the case is far from simple. As soon as he finds one thread another one leads him to unravel a tapestry woven from lies, secrets, corruption and evil. When friendship turns to love, Wisp`s life, as he knew it will completely change.
What started out as a murder case ends in a grisly battle which Wisp and his companions seem to have no chance of winning.
A wonderful Review on Amazon
Wisp is a marsh fairy (YES! Can you believe it?) with raven hair and pointy ears pierced with silver earrings. Marsh fairies are rare and possess special powers. Wisp keeps his real identity under wraps, known only to his superiors. Abandoned as a child, the “Senior” Law enforcement officer raised him ensuring his survival.
In a desolate area filled with putrefying rubbish, Wisp comes across the body of a High Elf, a member of the Thorns, who was a high-ranking council member found murdered in the circle. The elf’s throat had been brutally cut. Wisp sets out to solve the murder not realizing he is to play an integral part in solving the mystery.
Wisp meets Finn Redhaven, the lover of the murdered elf, Sammiel Thorn, and feels an immediate attraction to him. Wisp and Finn fall in love and discover a wealth of magical abilities enabled by their relationship. And, they are going to need all the help they can get to battle the evil that has descended on Edra.
As fantasy novels go, Wisp stands out to me in its originality and political intrigue. Ms. Park creates a world where love is considered to be one of the greatest powers of all. I enjoyed that the two main characters were male and embraced their love and desire for each other, which was a refreshing approach to solving a mystery in a magical land. The reader discovers along with Wisp the extent of his abilities which I anticipate will increase over time.
I’ve added Wisp to my list of favorite fantasy novels. I loved the story and the characters. The ending is a cliffhanger, and I can’t wait for the next volume to find out what happens to Wisp and Finn. Hopefully, Ms. Park won’t keep us in suspense for long.
( I could have sworn I had read this amazing story, something I shall put right forthwith!)
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Fool’s Gold… #Poetry
Image by Jaye Marie
While hitch hiking in the New Forest I took a wrong turn
The trees stood closer together, darker, menacing
My heart pounding as the light changed
I could see a small clearing
There stood a glass temple built in the fashion
of a step pyramid about four feet high
On the lower step sat a very small monk
His head in his hands, I could hear him sobbing
Stepping closer to sit beside him I asked after his sadness
Turning to me with the most beautiful face
Small, round bright blue eyes with bow shaped lips
The kind I knew to be soft to the touch
His voice, a rustle of leaves, full of mystery
Someone has stolen the gold stone
Without it the forest will soon die.
Before finding myself in this strange place
I had bought a few trinkets to take home
I offered the monk my palm sized piece of pyrite
Asking if it would do, in place of the lost stone
He took it in his small hands, saying
It’s a good replacement given with kindness
The forest spirits will be very grateful
He placed it on top, bowed his head
I heard whispered words that meant nothing to me
Thinking he was deep in prayer, I made my way out
of the forest with no wrong turns
Not realising the scene behind me was slowly fading
Disappearing into a realm that had sent it in the first place.
Stopping for a coffee before returning to my car
I asked about the glass temple.
No one knew what I was talking about
On my way out, the elderly man who sat behind me
Stopped to say I had been blessed by the sands of time
That from now on, my life would take the right turns
I watched him walk away, wondering how he knew
About my wrong turn. He made no mention of the glass temple
The words whispered by the monk stayed in my mind
I would try to look them up later…
©anitadawes
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#Silent Sunday…
Image by Jaye Marie
Image by Jaye Marie
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Rain Dancing…
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Bonsai ~ My Other Love…
Real, or Fake?
On those frequent occasions when my brain takes a hike and I am looking around my office for inspiration, I often find myself studying the items on my desk.
One of these is an artificial bonsai tree, although you have to look carefully to realise this. It is a white pine, brought from a specialist company called Bloom. They make the most amazing silk flowers and the occasional artificial tree, and the minute I saw it, I knew I had to treat myself. It is stunningly life-like and beautifully made.
You wouldn’t think that a dyed in the wool bonsai enthusiast would give such a thing house room, but it appealed to me simply because it cannot die. It will always remain perfect no matter the weather, never lose it‘s leaves in the autumn, and I love it.
I cannot help but see the differences between this tree and the real ones just outside my window, and not just the obvious differences, like the time of the year. The makers have done their best, but the bark is just a little too smooth. There are no cracks or crevices in the bark for all the tiny spiders to live in, a necessary part of any healthy tree, for they control other nastier insects.
There is no living collection of mosses and lichen around the base of the trunk either, something all of my other trees have, and although this artificial tree keeps me company all through the year, when all the others are sleeping, their leaves just a memory, it cannot change my feelings for my babies.
The ones that are so old and have pride of place in my yard, and the ones that are still finding their way to maturity. Then there are the ones I grew from seed that may not ever amount to much in my lifetime, for it takes years to become an established bonsai. These are special to me, even if they don’t look quite right yet.
I think that growing anything, whether in a pot or in your garden, is a lot like writing. Until you know what you are doing, what you produce will be just a shadow of what it could be. And like a garden, your words need tender loving care too. Prune too hard, or badly, there are a million ways to ruin what is fragile at best and the results will be disappointing…
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#Wordle ~ 431 #Poetry
Your tears wash the clues
The puzzle vanishes from mind
A scream remains
That does not belong to you
Your ears ring with the sound of fear
Born deep within the ground
Where dark roots coil
Once the world, lit by wonder
Holds no joy
You were born to dance
Now all you do is sit
Bound by lost desire…
©anitadawes
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One mind… #Poetry
Image by Pixabay.com
One mind
I am still here, writing words
that bleed into the universe
Looking for greater meaning
To find a like-minded soul
To share the agony with
To fill the space between four walls
With conversation, understanding,
Two minds wired the same way
Each giving to the other
Finding ways to understand the impossible
Wandering through the universe
And back again, in time for tea…
