#Shadows

Sheer Terror… #Acrostic Poetry

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Screaming in my head broke the silence
Under cover of darkness, they moved
Pulsing, like a broken strobe light
Eyes open, my body frozen
Rain on my window, like thunder crashing
In time held still, tears formed
None could fall, my body motionless
Terror took over from screaming
Every sound heightened, blood coursing, 
                                   a thundering waterfall
Light has a sound of its own, humming gently
Letting hope in, past the darkness
Insidious shadow beings, chasing the light
Gaining time stolen from another dimension
Early morning light, slid into my room
Nearer to the shadows fading
Clearing my mind, my body restoring movement
Every part of the night vanished; fear melted…

©AnitaDawes2022

Do you see the word this stunning acrostic poem was created for?

No me again today, folks.

Sorry about that, but had a big old very bad tooth out yesterday and my face and head ache feel like I’ve been smacked with a mallet… Jaye

A Lucky Penny… the wizards’ will is strong today… #Poetry

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Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay

The Wizards will is strong today
A lucky penny he threw my way
In my pocket, I let it sit.
The next day I found a job
Life is looking up I thought
People say I am a fool to heed his words
A vagrant, that sits alone
on the bench all day.
Yet in his eyes, I see much more
His ragged clothes turn most away
I see a suit of golden hue
His footsteps light when he walks 
His age disguised by a trick of sight.
So much they miss with noses turned
What fate, what future stands without?
First condemning with sight and sound.
Let those walk by who see him not
I keep my penny out of sight
My life I see in his hands.
A light to pin my hopes upon...

©AnitaDawes2022

Standing Time… Acrostic Poetry…

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Image by Willgard Krause from Pixabay
Standing Time

Trains stations, cold lonely places
Rushing through new fields
Is there time to stop and stare?
Greeted by fresh winds waiting
Onward the journey continues
Never looking back
Over my shoulder I leave the past behind
Making no plans this time
Everything must come as it will
Tarry not for yesterday, today has its own troubles
Remember to take slow strides this
Yesterday will not catch up with you…

©AnitaDawes2022

PS: I’m not quite ready to change chairs today, but Anita has been busy!

Jaye

My Rightful Place… #Poetry

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Image by misterserious from Pixabay

I told my story to the empty streets of London
While the stars stood witness to my pain
The day I witnessed Heaven burning
Leaving me with no way home
I fell to earth before the flames could reach me
My story told before I reached this realm
With so little truth to tell
Yes, my wings are less than white
Because my tongue, I could not hold
For speaking out against the Mighty One
Now they are singed beyond repair
I cannot go home without His help
Sorry is the hardest word, it burns my throat
I must find a different way
to find my rightful place among the stars
Leave the empty streets of London
To their own way of sinning…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Dancing to the Tune of Time… #Poetry

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Image by ClaudiaWollesen from Pixabay ~ Poetry by Anita Dawes
I dance to the tune of time
A soundless beat
A marionette caught in a web
The puppet master fled
Time passes through droplets of rain
Caught beside me on silken thread
Kings come and go
I hang, my strings decaying
Time cuts my thread on life
I fall as matchwood
A puppet no more…

©AnitaDawes2022

Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge…

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#TANKATUESDAY Weekly #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 266, 3/22/22, #THEMEPROMPT

This month’s theme is:

FIRE & WATER

The
clock struck
midnight twice
storm winds blew hard
the old house rattled
thunder had us hiding
lightning lit the tree flame red
hours later, rain took the flames back
slowly creeping from under the table
silence returned, filling the house with peace…

©AnitaDawes2022

Whatdoyousee ~ #Keepitalive ~ #Poetry

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What do you see # 126 – March 21st, 2022

Image credit; John Noonan @ Unsplash

For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a black colored full face mask held in both hands of a person, not shown in the frame.

Hidden 

I found him weeping
His face an un-ironed sheet
His eyes as pale as
Early morning sunlight
His voice soft as
A summer breeze
I heard him whisper, choose
Follow the pied piper
Or pay the ferryman
Is it better to take the coin?
From the mouth then condemned
To wear the mask
To hide from those
That fear what they see…

©AnitaDawes2022