inspiration

Carrot Ranch Literary Community ~ #Poetry

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May 23, 2022, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the phrase “well’s gone dry.” Is it a real well or a metaphorical well? Why is it dry? What is the consequence and to whom? Go where the prompt leads!

I had planned this pilgrimage for a year
A sacred well, 140 mile walk
Could take a week
My father told me about it
To drink from it, brings good luck
I need some
The trek hard, my feet blistered
My back broken
The scenery beautiful
So many birds I had never seen
Camping at night, early morning pilgrims
Walking down, their faces grim
I thought little of it, except the walk had been tough
Then a couple told me the well's gone dry
I continued, disappointed, however
I was still hoping to hear the whisper from the well…

©AnitaDawes2022

One Step Forward…

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Image by Raka Saputra from Pixabay

I seem to be taking one step forward and two back…

The recent productivity is having a knock-on effect on everything, and although I welcome this, I am having trouble understanding why I end up with so many more plans than those I started with. Usually, having nothing to do with what I am doing at the time.

Finishing one job lands me among all those ghosts of other projects I either made a mess of, or completely forgot about.

My mind does try, bless it, to think along dual idea lines, and I have had serious talks with the muse to stop cramming my head with so many ideas, to at least wait until I finish one!

Eventually, of course, my enthusiasm fades, leaving me to struggle on, stubborn to the last. I could do without the never-ending tooth and earache, as they seem to have addled quite a few of my struggling grey cells!

I mean, how long does it take an extraction to heal?

I was going to ring the doctor today, but somehow I can’t make myself pick up the phone, mainly because I know she will fob me off with the same pills as last time, and also because I’m not sure if the toothache is making the ear problem worse, or the other way around.

I have the sneaky feeling that once you approach 80, they start to edge you towards the compost heap, as there has been a noticeable lack of enthusiasm whenever I mention one of my many long-standing problems.

This state of affairs leaves me unwilling to bother, preferring to wait and see what happens while continuing with salt rinses and painkillers. I am also experimenting with CBD drops as they are supposed to help with arthritis and the accompanying depression of everything else.

So far, I am managing to write and run the office…

The Universe… #Poetry

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Image by Thomas B. from Pixabay

The Universe

The universe is like crazy paving
You cannot avoid the cracks
With each step, it changes
Like a constant gardener
Living in a compost heap of Earth’s wine
Plucking weeds, planting bulbs
where they’re not wanted
Changing borders, straightening edges
Turning my life into a jigsaw puzzle
Pieces missing, others put in place
where they don’t fit, causing chaos
Surely they could have chosen a better plan
on the day I was born?

©AnitaDawes2022

Never Forget… #Poetry

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Never Forget

Turning forty tomorrow
Evenings feel longer
Memories knocking stronger
People forgotten
Turning in my mind
Arriving like paper flowers
Turning my frown upside down
Inviting new wishes
On tomorrows page I write
Never forget where you came from…

©AnitaDawes2022

Time Fading… #Poetry

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Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Inside the box, voices could be heard
nagging at my mind
Thoughts scrambling, fighting to be one
Ending in a light bulb moment
Radio had been left on low
Daft old man, I told myself
Inside the box, you know that, you remember
Memory is a tricky thing
Every hour that passes, it fades
Nice memories cling on fast
Sitting like a comfy armchair, don’t let go
Inside the box will help you keep listening
On this journey we call life
Nearer to your ending
A new beginning waits
Let go, let it in…

©AnitaDawes2022

Of Mice and Men…

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Image by Wilfried Pohnke from Pixabay

Jaye

The best-laid plans and all that, always seem to backfire when it’s me who makes them.

Doesn’t matter what it is, something will always get in the way. My best days are those when I don’t plan anything, almost as though I must keep it a secret from myself.

I have lost track of how many good writing days just happened.

This works for everything. If I plan to cut the grass, the heavens will open, and it will rain all day. Some of my unplanned days turn out to be amazing, far beyond my expectations.

As you can imagine, this state of affairs plays havoc with my progress, something I have trouble accepting. I mean, who is in charge around here?

I love it when it happens with writing. I can be in the middle of the daily chores, and emails when I get this overwhelming desire to pick up a pen and write something that has popped into my head.

I welcome these moments, even when they happen first thing in the morning when I only have one eye open. I suppose this could be what happens to rebels when they get old, if it is, it’s the only part of growing old I approve of!

I often wonder if I need more discipline, although saying the word puts my teeth on edge.

It would increase my book production though…

Another reminder of Bookfunnel’s latest promotion!


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There are a lot of interesting and FREE thrillers just waiting to be read,

click on the link and fill up your kindles!

The Sunday Whirl Wordle ~#553 ~ #Poetry

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I close my eyes at night
Hoping they open in the morning
I lie beneath the covers
Waiting for the nightmares to begin
A single crow, hovers above me
I hear a shot of thunder
I slip away, against a clear black sky
A million stars, brighter than I have seen before
They fly towards me, a single flower in my hand
Can I beat back the nightmares?
To place the flower in my mother’s hand?

©AnitaDawes2022