When… #Poetry

 

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

When she loved me,

midnight was never dark

The moon always full,

 my bed never cold

My heart ever full,

the touch of her lips

Never fading, a permanent reminder

Of when she loved me.

Now I care not for midnight skies,

The stars have fallen

from their velvet mooring

Music has no melody,

ocean waves crash

against lonely shores, soundless.

The sun has lost its warmth

The smile on a strangers face

 no longer delights me

I am outside my body looking in,

As I sit remembering

when she loved me…

AAAAA

Time and Place… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Time and Place

I grew in darkness, forced into the light.

I did not choose these people

I hold my breath, hoping to go back.

They wait for my scream

to let them know I am truly here.

My body is fresh born, my mind older

than my parents from the nine months

spent with this woman.

I know she has lost all memory of her time before

Information that would be helpful to her life now.

She would not have allowed herself to become pregnant

She would have remembered.

I will leave before the age of seven

When my memory of past time will be lost to me.

I must continue my search for the woman who remembers

She will become my mother.

Her guidance will give my life true meaning

I will finish this life in a swimming accident.

My mother will grieve

She will have another child who will stay.

My mother knows I am coming

She waits. When next I leap

 It will not be out of time…

AAAAA

Space Between… #Poetry

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SPACE BETWEEN

Would you give your life to save me

From the space between the space?

A place where worlds bounce us from place to place.

Punishment for sins long forgotten

Crimes they say we have committed

The guardians do not listen to our pleas

No innocent is ever sent here, they say

They wait for you to be beguiled

By the beauty in some of these worlds

I have passed through ugly worlds

Where people suffer unimaginable torment

Too hideous to be written here

So far, my time here has been uneventful

I hear snatches of conversation

Some hunger for food that never comes

Others try to kill each other

My innocence falls on deaf ears

If I am snatched from one of these worlds

I will be lost forever, with no hope

Of being sent back to my own world

I heard someone say that one day

An innocent will come to rescue those trapped here

Is one enough to explode these worlds apart?

Is there an innocent to come looking for me

One who would be brave enough to step into Purgatory?

©Anita Dawes

#Wordle 404

 

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Hope is an invisible thread to nowhere

like walking through life with lead-lined boots.

There is no song to lift my spirits

my foundations are weak.

The cement is mixed wrong, it’s dry, ready to crumble

I don’t believe in tomorrow

there is no surprise waiting around the corner.

The gate is closed firmly behind me

there is no turning back.

I let the trials break my life, and I have nothing left.

My heart is too soft, I let myself be walked on.

I step inside a gipsy booth, reason escapes me

I am walking blind. I placed a silver dollar on her table

her voice is soft. Cards laid out, a mystery to me

I listen as she speaks. You have let too many people

take pieces of your life.

Your revenge was not sweet, it left your heart empty,

a river running dry.

There is time to show mercy, so you too can receive.

Start your life over, let hope carry you forward

Believe…

AAAAA

#FlashFiction 99 word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

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May 16, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that goes in search of trees. It can be one particular tree, a grove, woods, or forest. What makes the tree worth seeking? Go where the prompt leads!

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I don’t have to go too far to find a great tree.

It is in my garden, my beautiful gum tree.

Tall and magnificent, a small amount of wind

sets it swaying like a row of flamenco dancers

I can almost hear the roots tapping away

in time with the rhythm above.

Soothing and calming my mind.

I sit there often unburdening the misery

I have accrued over the last few days.

I know it listens, never judging.

The soft sway of its leaves above my head,

A blessing, a benediction.

Gentle giants, they are the air we breathe…

AAAAA

Uninvited… #poetry

 

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Uninvited

Watch out for that stranger of unknown danger

You may have brought back from a dream

That uninvited guest that won’t go

The one that lives in the shadows

He knows your name.

You hear him whisper late at night

“Come back to me, our dream is real…”

You know that it’s not possible to live by day

Then dream the same dream night after night

Yet it never stops. You see strangers wearing his face

You rush from the rain, not looking where you are going

Stepping from the kerb, you are knocked to the ground

Your world has no colour, the way it used to

As if a grey cloud has swallowed you

You wake with the driver leaning over you

A stranger wearing his face, the face from your dream…

AAAAA.png

Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge… #Etheree

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Colleen is still not back from her housing adventure, so this weeks poetry challenge will wing its way to her by magic!

I

have one

yesterday

to remember

Sweet summer kisses

Running from sudden storm

Cave we found out of the rain

Emerald walls on Cornwall beach

Where salty kisses are still the best

How long will I remember yesterday…

AAAAA

#The Sunday Whirl ~ #Wordle 403

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Image by Leonard Bentley

Old London

The name’s Sparrow and this is my story.

Born on the wrong side of the tracks, the dark alley down by the Bull and Rag is home to many like me. Life don’t hold out no gold permit for the likes of us.

Unwanted, we live in the shadows. The fog of London turns us invisible, helping us to find food and old clothing. Anything we can find to keep us warm in winter. Twelve years now, I have seen many, much younger. Not all survive. When one goes, we shift the body under the street lights, where for once in their lives they will be seen. When we hear the siren, we know they have been taken away to be buried, a permanent home.

A plain wooden cross with no name, he’s a number. Someone should have loved him. One of these days, I will tear down this invisible barrier, the blocks that stand in my way. I will walk the streets of London in style. Men will doff their hats; ladies in their Sunday best will smile as I pass by. The name’s Sparrow, I am part of this world, I will be seen…

AAAAA

Far Below…

 

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

 

 

 

Far Below

 

Deep below in the castle dungeon, lay a red and gold dragon.

Chained to the wall, his colours fading as the years passed.

He could hear his mate calling, but he cannot break the chains. The fire no longer burns in his chest. Love is a fading memory, the egg she laid when last he saw, grown now.

He wished for her to leave this place, forget him, his freedom will not come.

For who would be brave enough to approach a dragon, whose foul food lay all around, fed by the master who captured him.

He too could be long dead, like the foul maggot stench the dragon lived in, hope slowly dying.

A new queen has taken the throne, a new broom sweeps through the castle.

On her wanderings, she found the dungeons. Peering down a large hole, the stench almost knocks her off her feet. She hears movement, a chain rattle. Someone was down there.

Her heart thumped.

She called the guards, demanding to know what lay below.

‘It is your father’s dragon, Mam and the one who flies above is his mate.’

‘Then we must set him free,’ she said.

‘You won’t find anyone who will go down there. They are afraid.’

‘Then I shall go, have a ladder placed here while I change my garments.’

This was done, and the queen descended, a large key in her hand.

The light from above illuminated the rot she stood in. A glint of red and gold flashed with the smallest of movements.

‘I need more men. This dragon will not die in my castle. A sling must be made. I want him transported to the sanctuary of my garden. I will wash and feed him. He will be saved. Go now, before I have you all tied in his place.’

The queen was never happier than when caring for her dragon.

Watching as his mate flew overhead, each day his strength returned.

Soon he will want to join her.

Everyone in the household thought her mad.

‘As soon as he is strong enough, he will kill her,’ they whispered.

This did not happen and the day came when he flew with his mate.

The day also came when she needed him to fight for her, to keep her reign and her castle…

AAAAA

May 9: Flash Fiction Challenge ~ Growing Old… #Poetry

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May 9, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about growing older. It can be humorous, dark or poignant. It can be true or total fiction. It can be fine wine or an old fossil. Go where the prompt leads!

 

 

I don’t look in the mirror these days, because there is a road map where my face used to be.

Time makes strange marks on all of us, some you cannot see.

From my window, I have watched my neighbours grow old. Two that used to walk to town, now in wheelchairs. One used to pedal his bike everywhere, now uses a stroller.

We are shrinking back to childhood.

Others I have watched through nine months, waiting to produce new life. Now that same child walks beside her mother on her way to school.

 I watch life go by…

AAAAA