#Writephoto ~ Chill

Thursday photo prompt: Chill #writephoto

 

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For visually challenged writers, the image shows a landscape wearing a light dusting of snow. From the hill, where skeletal heather and brown grasses pierce the snow, a valley spreads out below, lit by the rays of a pale sun.

 

Snow

Light shining from a thousand different worlds

That our eyes cannot see while we stand

on hard snow frosted ground.

The heart says yes, they are there. One day soon,

lucky heather may give me a glimpse

Of the world hidden within the light

For now, I wonder at the beauty

The majesty of such a sight

that my eyes can see. As I go to walk away,

looking back at my empty footprints

Could someone be following me?

I see the light shift, as though blown by the wind

A dancing curtain of light, teasing my mind

Strange images, stranger sounds

Haunt my journey home…

©anitadawes

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge

Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 157 #SynonymsOnly

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The magic of the season is all around us. Can you feel it?

 

My

upset

Granddaughter’s

Tears for freckles

Her face scrubbed red raw

What can I say to her?

A sign of beauty, not that

I didn’t believe it years ago

I needed to think of something quick

I told her they were the shadows of stars…

©anitadawes

Magnetic Pull… #Poetry

 

Magnetic Pull

Gravity has a lot to answer for

When walking through town

Above my head, electric cables span the space

between the two sides of the street

Pigeons balanced, poised, waiting to

deposit something unwanted on my shoulder

There’s no defying gravity here

These feathered wonders hit their mark

Good luck they say.

A passing stranger said to buy a lottery ticket

You never know

So I did, and now I must wait and see…

©anitadawes

Four Seasons… #Poetry

 

Four Seasons

The mournful sound of Summer dying

Bare trees, one green leaf clinging

With the last of Summers sigh

Autumn slips past too fast

To the cold grip of Winter

Hard ground beneath your feet

Creatures sleeping, waiting

Cupboards fully stocked for snowfall

Bright buttoned snowmen built

Wooden sleighs sliding

Children laughing

Let me turn the clock forward

Bring on the Spring rains

The smile of daffodils

Let the sun shine

so I can feel warm again…

©anitadawes

Ready-made… #Poetry

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Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

 

Ready-made

I have seen the devil playing with angels

Until a new soul is born

They split as fast as lightning

Rushing through the universe

To stake their claim

To control the life yet to begin

Who can offer greater temptation?

Whose whispered words can be heard

By this growing soul

Don’t they know we are all born to be angels

and demons in one soul?

©anitadawes

The Long Walk… #Poetry

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Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

 

The Long Walk

I want to dance

To swim the warm waters

Run barefoot through fields of yesterday

When you were there

I have lost more than my soul mate

There are no sunsets, no moon rise

The breeze no longer moves through the trees

The leaves are still

You have taken the air from this world

I can no longer breathe without you here

I wait, drifting like a slow-moving river

Until I can walk the path you have taken…

©anitadawes

#BlogBattle ~ Innocent

Read. Inspire. #BlogBattle

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Excerpt from CrossFire, by Jaye Marie

Ann Taylor had made a remarkable effort with her appearance. Her hair was clean and brushed, her clothes also clean and in good condition. Nothing she could do about her nerves though, her hands clutched at the sleeves of her cardigan and her face was as pale as death. She came across as a weak, ineffective woman. Not someone you would ever suspect of harming a child. But Ruth knew only too well that appearances could be misleading and this woman was not as innocent as she made out.

Ruth thought back to her time in prison and all the different women she had shared her existence with. You would think all criminals would look the same, whether they were male or female. She had learned the hard way not to make any assumptions when dealing with them. Some of the hardest and roughest women were the ones who ever showed her any kindness at all. Women like Ann Taylor were usually the worst and best avoided.

‘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…

©jayemarie

 

Shattered Figurines… (Det. Jo Naylor Series Book 1) Our 5* review for Allan Hudson’s brilliant new #Adventure Story @hudson_allan

 

 

Detective Josephine Naylor receives an email telling her where to find the last body. The messenger tells her “only you can stop this madness”. Discovering a shattered figurine on the corpse, she’s overwhelmed by the possibility it might be the one she sold in a yard sale. If so, she knows who the killer could be. She prays that she’s wrong…

Our Review

The opening chapter presents the detective, Jo Naylor, with a very important question. One she didn’t really want to answer but knows she must.

The next chapter, one year later, hits you square in the face with full on complicated and violent action as we discover what this story is all about.

Shattered Figurines is a surprisingly unusual detective story in that it doesn’t follow the usual plotline for this genre and the characters aren’t run of the mill either. The author has captured a very real element in both the story and the characters and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.

I love a good detective mystery story and Shattered Figurines is one of the best I have read this year. I shall be first in the queue when the author writes another one in this series.