The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 365 ~ #Poetry

©AnitaDawes2022 ~ image by Pixabay.com
The power shot past me
The sacred moment lost
I lie under the covers
A heavy ache held my heart
I hear the owl in the woods
The hollow crack of spirit
The candle lit, the feast ready
The sideways glance, the door opens
Yesterday’s spirits rush in…

©AnitaDawes2022

Shadows…  (or a touch of backward thinking)

©JayeMarie2022

Some people live charmed lives, don’t they?

Everything good seems to drop in their laps. As I get closer to the end of my days, I have been unable to stop wondering why my life had to be the way it was. Back then, I always seemed to be at the end of the queue when dishing out happy days.

I would have settled for dull and boring days, anything but one more day of misery.

People who know me know I am a trier, and I sometimes wonder if that was half the trouble. Maybe if I wasn’t so willing to accept everything that fate threw at me, my life might have been easier to live. Not known for ducking and diving, you see. At the time, I thought all I had to do was wait until I was old enough to do my own thing.

I was determined to climb to the top of the dung heap, to breathe fresh, clean air, the air of success, of possibilities, and make something of my life. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried, this never really happened. I trudged through an endless succession of hopeless situations.

I hurtled from one mistake to another. They were never the same mistake, though, something I remember with a touch of pride, not that it helped much.

My life is full of shadows. Shadows that haunt me every day.

My heart is like a piece of Kintsugi, carefully repaired many times but hanging in there like a trooper.

Kintsugi fosters the idea that a broken object can be repaired and be made useful once again. It tells us we can always begin anew despite past failures. Accepting imperfections helps us to break free from the obsession with perfectionism which causes unnecessary stress and inhibits creativity and productivity.

Getting older has been a Godsend for me. I am more in control now, and many shadows have faded, no longer waiting in the corners to ruin my days. There are one or two things I would love to change, to put right what I did wrong all those years ago, but time sometimes makes this impossible.

As my life slows down and my memories lose clarity, I hope to enjoy the gathering peace for a while longer…

Falling… #Poetry

Image by Simon from Pixabay ~ Poem by A Dawes

Falling out of love I find
Opportunities I thought lost
Understanding what to do, however
Nothing I could think of helps
Drowning is how I felt
Always the same feelings repeated
Too late, you lost me
In moonlight I sleep
On wings of white I fly late at night
Nearer to you, before we fall out of love…

©AnitaDawes2022

Another wonderfully sad, heartbreaking poem from Anita!

She Sings… #Poetry

Under purple skies, she sits, she sings
Low winds carry her voice, her echo
Tomorrow tells yesterday’s old stories
Impossible dreams crushed like broken glass
Memories claw like branches
      on the bedroom window pane
Alerting the sleeping mind to horrors outside
Tomorrows nightmares arrive early
Entering the subconscious, they grow,
      Slowly waiting for the day they bloom…

©AnitaDawes2022

Are we Free? #Poetry

Shadows stretch across the floor
           Disappearing into darker corners
Hidden in mind’s eye, they linger, 
        like lost souls, looking for home
Any thoughts I had, were mixed, scrambled, questioning
Kites when they break free, that’s what shadows remind me of
               When they hide in a darker space, are they free?
Evening shadows, are they the same ones, out of hiding?
Silly thoughts that take hold of the mind
Peppering the space inside my head, 
        with strange things to ponder on
Evening starlight, are there shadows up there?
Away from our gaze, I wonder
Running after my own shadow for too long
Ending where I began…

©AnitaDawes2022

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie ~ Wordle #279 ~ #Poetry

Image by Robert Pastryk from Pixabay

Thank God for fiction, 
the bishop and the black dog, the dog 
that told of the whispers between the walls
The hot dog that legged it to a better life
Stories saved my soul from shrinking
my way to cope, to lose myself in myth
Hercules and the Minotaur, 
Troy, Medusa with her head of snakes
Without these things my childhood 
would have been so much darker, lonely
Nowadays, holidays take in the old, 
sometimes forgotten architecture
My enthusiasm knows no bounds 
when it comes to the skill of our forefathers
The beauty of a gargoyle, high above your head
The grotesques that keep away bad spirits
Anything otherworldly keeps my soul in place…

©AnitaDawes2022

Lost in Time ~ The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 561 ~ #Poetry

Lost in time
The bones of our ancestors
Covered in myths
That run on willowy legs
Old spirits growl, I hear them not
I hear birds singing, the hum of summer
Empty footsteps tracking my progress
I pray they never catch up to me
I say the prayer three times
The third is the charm
To keep away the blood, 
trickling down the walls
The glum faces of my neighbours 
that haunt my dreams
I run after the old, the magic of myth
The stories that keep my blood pumping…

©AnitaDawes2022


Long Grass… #Poetry

Image by Thomas Hoang from Pixabay

Playing inside the long grass
Happy, safe, childhood free of pain
In my family’s hands I grew
Leaving home, my first pain
Arrives, concealed in sweetness
Dad kissed my cheek, waved me on
Education, part of the plan
Later, life grew strange
Pushed by my peers
Hell was raised
In pain, loss of innocence
Away I staggered from college life
             to the safety of my home…

©AnitaDawes2022

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