#Poetry: Shadows…

 

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Shadows followed me today

Pushing me forward, holding back

Steps I had taken along the way

Memories flooding, sad to tell

Of family, friends left behind

Some to look for, some to find

Words I should have spoken

To say I am sorry, please take me back…

©Anita Dawes

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

CrossFire…with poem by Anita #MysteryThriller

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CrossFire

Snow has a target on his back

A female finger on the bow.

He may not have long to go

This life a clock ticking fast.

Blood and sand made of paint.

Does Kate still factor in his fate?

Alas, she is taken by the wind

A new female wants her pound of flesh

With arrow poised, she lets it fly

Snow is hit, his trap undone

Ruth has fled, now on the run…

©Anita Dawes

 

Excerpt from CrossFire

‘Do you know why we have brought you here today, Ann?’

Ruth thought she would ease her way in, rather than accuse her straight off, for triggering any hostility wouldn’t get them anywhere.

The woman stared at Ruth, her pale, colourless eyes searching for clues. ‘Nah… but I ‘spect you’ll get to it pretty quick…’

Ruth indicated a brown paper bag on the table beside her. ‘We found a pair of work boots at your house, Ann. According to your husband, they’re not his. Are they yours?’

Ann Taylor glared at Ruth. She seemed to be enjoying the interview, her arrogance showing through the previous nervousness. ‘Dunno, can’t see them can I?’

Ruth undid the bag and placed the dirty boots on the table. Most of the mud had dried and fallen off, but still didn’t seem like the kind of boot a woman would wear. ‘Are these your boots, Ann?’

Without looking at the boots, she shook her head. ‘Nah, I don’t think so.’

Ruth looked at Snow, but not for confirmation. She wondered why he was choosing to stay silent. What was the point of sitting in if he wasn’t going to contribute? Not that she cared, one way or the other. She had only looked at him to signify inclusion.

She looked back at the woman. ‘Are you quite sure, Ann?’

The woman shrugged her shoulders and refused to speak.

‘For the benefit of the tape, Ann Taylor has refused to answer.’

Ruth decided to read out the coroner’s report, detailing every bruise and damage to the child’s body. When she read the part about the boot imprint on the child’s back, she slid the photograph across the table in front of the mother.

‘Did you do this, Ann?’

When the woman didn’t answer, Ruth decided it was time to play the ace card, and she looked forward to it. This cold-hearted bitch of a woman was about to be arrested, but not before Ruth had enjoyed herself. ‘Are you aware that the person who wore these boots would have left significant DNA inside them?’

Ruth paused, watching as the realisation sunk in.  ‘And are you also aware that we have tested your DNA and it has been proved that you are the owner of these boots?’

The fear and shame were beginning to show on the woman’s face, and Ruth watched, wondering what she would do now. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Ann Taylor’s face seemed to implode, as the terror of being found out took effect.  ‘I swear I don’t remember that part… I know I were angry, but when she fell over and banged her head, I thought she was dead…’

‘So what did you do then, Ann?’ Ruth knew what had happened next, but not which one of them had done it.  ‘Were you aware that Amy was still alive when you dropped her into the canal?’

The horror was all-encompassing, as the woman realised the enormity of what she had done. She looked around the room, just once, before she started screaming…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

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…

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Tales of Old… #Poetry

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Old fairy tales haunt the air

They wait for memory to bring them back

What evil do we breathe?

Dark woods that call you there

To feed from life, retell their stories

Of magic swords and healing cups

Treasures buried in hidden caves

Where dragons sleep, do not disturb

How do you feel when the winds blow cold?

Is it the ice queen breathing down your back?

Do you hear wolves late at night?

Do you have a cloak of red?

Can you see the house of sugar?

Did you leave crumbs to find your way out?

Did you find Aladdin’s Lamp, rub it clean

Hear the genie scream, what is your wish?

Careful now, lest darkness calls on a witches broom

She’s flying by, your desire she heard

Mischief comes in strange disguise

No needles in this kingdom found

Save one, now they sleep for years to come

Prick not your finger, lest your life be undone

A golden plait hangs from on high

A maiden rescued from tower walls

Who can tell what thoughts are memories

Carried by the wind, imparting old life to live within…

AAAAA

Tales of Old… #Poetry

genie_by_repeatingarms.jpg

 

Old fairy tales haunt the air

They wait for memory to bring them back

What evil do we breathe?

Dark woods that call you there

To feed from life, retell their stories

Of magic swords and healing cups

Treasures buried in hidden caves

Where dragons sleep, do not disturb

How do you feel when the winds blow cold?

Is it the ice queen breathing down your back?

Do you hear wolves late at night?

Do you have a cloak of red?

Can you see the house of sugar?

Did you leave crumbs to find your way out?

Did you find Aladdin’s Lamp, rub it clean

Hear the genie scream, what is your wish?

Careful now, lest darkness calls on a witches broom

She’s flying by, your desire she heard

Mischief comes in strange disguise

No needles in this kingdom found

Save one, now they sleep for years to come

Prick not your finger, lest your life be undone

A golden plait hangs from on high

A maiden rescued from tower walls

Who can tell what thoughts are memories

Carried by the wind, imparting old life to live within…

AAAAA

My Pillow… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

My Pillow

Leave a kiss on my pillow before you leave

A promise of your return

I roll into the warm space you leave behind

I linger remembering your touch

Hope awakened within

Why do you slip away unseen?

Did the night promise too much?

Does my kiss still linger on your lips?

Will it be enough to bring you back?

My phantom lover, a fantasy made before I sleep

Does your love belong to someone else?

AAAAA.png

My Pillow… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

My Pillow

Leave a kiss on my pillow before you leave

A promise of your return

I roll into the warm space you leave behind

I linger remembering your touch

Hope awakened within

Why do you slip away unseen?

Did the night promise too much?

Does my kiss still linger on your lips?

Will it be enough to bring you back?

My phantom lover, a fantasy made before I sleep

Does your love belong to someone else?

AAAAA.png

My Queen… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

My Queen…

My Celtic Queen, she does return

a horse of white, its mane in flight

the wind picks up her flame red hair

She looks for family lost in the fight

Her crown lies broken, her spirit bright

She means to mend the wrong

that Rome had done.

The cold grey mist hides all from sight

She goes by the sound of horse’s battle

clashing swords

Battle ready she fights once more

to find her crown still broken as before…

AAAAA