#Writephoto ~ Calling

Thursday photo prompt: Calling #writephoto

 

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Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows  a snowstorm with the silhouette of a stag watching between two trees.

 

 

Calling…

 

Snow had been forecast, but Janet had promised to visit old Mrs Robson, to make sure she was warm enough and had enough to eat.

On her way home, the first flakes of snow were drifting down, gradually covering the road with a thin white blanket that softly crunched under her feet.

She wondered if it was a good idea to take the shortcut across the fields, and stood and looked around, weighing up the risk of the snow getting worse.

The snow was thicker now, reducing the visibility, but if she took the shortcut, she would be home and safe before it got any worse.

Approaching the edge of the field, a large stag appeared and stood as if barring her way between the trees. He stood motionless, a look of determination in his eyes and the tilt of his head.

Not wanting to be chased, Janet turned away and looked for another way to cross the field.

Further along the road was another opening, but the stag was there before her. It was becoming obvious that he didn’t want her to cross the field. Or was he trying to stop her from going home?

The snow was now falling in a thick curtain and it had turned bitterly cold. It probably would be safer to stay on the road, but Mrs Robson’s cottage was nearer than her house, so the decision made, she trudged along in the blinding snow. Before long, she heard someone breathing on the road behind her. She stopped and turned her head, barely making out who was following her. The stag stared back at her; his breath visible in the freezing air.

She increased her speed, almost running to the cottage.

The front door was wide open, snow already piling up inside but there was no sign of Mrs Robson. The stag made his way around the cottage to the back garden, and Janet followed him. They found Mrs Robson sitting on the ground, her leg at an angle underneath her. She looked like a pixie, covered in snow.

She smiled in welcome, but not at Janet…

©jayemarie

 

 

Blue Moon… #Poetry

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Image by Pixabay.com

Blue Moon

Blue moon, the triple goddess

If you should be unfortunate enough to meet her

Do not hold her gaze

For she sees through time and space

Through all your lifetimes

She brings them to the fore

All your past misdeeds

You may be forced to live them again

Which many of us do

Under her gaze, you have become

Triple cursed

Each returning misdeed

Weighs more than you can carry

Yet under a blue moon you may be lucky

For it is said she can be appeased

By asking for her forgiveness

For on that one night when the moon shines blue

She is inclined to forgive

Those she takes a liking to

Pray that she likes the look of you…

©anitadawes

My Knight… #Poetry

 

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

My Knight

My seven-year-old son informed me

 he would like a knight’s outfit,

with a sword for Halloween.

I thought it odd at the time

For he likes clowns

I managed to find one his size

He looked the very inch of a Knight

in shining armour. No face paint, he said.

He needed to be seen.

After two hours of walking around

I could see my tiny knight tiring

Time for tea, bath and bed, or so I thought.

No amount of persuasion could remove the outfit

He refused to go to bed,

so, I let him fall asleep on the sofa

Carrying him to his bed, he woke

Telling me he had to stay awake until midnight

“If Gran comes back, I have to save her…”

The gifting hour, when the dead can walk among us

Oh God, why had I explained this to him

I should have known he was too young.

He slept with the sword for two weeks

Before leaving it under his bed

Clearing his room, picking stray toys from the floor

I asked if we could put the sword in the toy box

He said he didn’t need it anymore.

“Gran kissed me goodnight, so I know she is all right.”

It seems my tiny knight was happy again…

©anitadawes

Time Master… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Time, we moan is too fast, too slow

There’s never enough of it

We would all like more

Each of us has an allotted span

Would you want to know

How much you had left

To enjoy or moan about?

What if I tell you there is a place?

Where you can turn the clock back

Would you play back yesterday

A month, a year more?

To do so, you must interact

With the Time Master in a dream

Set your clock for midnight

When you wake,

turn your clock back one hour

Lay your head back on your pillow

Call for the Time Master three times

before you sleep

When the clock passes midnight for the second time

You may find yourself in a strange place

Of dark moving clouds in a world of clocks

You must find the one that matches

the one on your bedside table.

Turn the hands to midnight

You may wake in the wrong tomorrow

Depending on what you hoped for…

©anitadawes

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge…

Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 145 #PhotoPrompt

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The image is from Pixabay, by Michael Seibt

 

 

The

Black hiss

Of a snake

Sound out of sight

Then I found him there

Flute music filled the air

A sad lament remembered

The Black war snake ready to strike

One red poppy yet not forgotten

By many who made it home to Blighty…

©anitadawes

#Water… #Poetry

 

giphy

 

Water

Sapphire world of midnight, magic rises,

a gift for the world of mortals

The water queen spreads

her magic across the globe

Whether you want it or not

Baptisms, blessings, bathing, we all use it

Not realising it has a memory

From where it was born

Each person it has touched good or bad,

it matters not, water flows where it will.

Beneath the ground, hidden caverns

Through the graveyards where the dead sleep

In eternal slumber

When we thirst, we drink to stay alive

Whose memory do we take upon ourselves.

©anitadawes