The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 580 ~ #Poetry

Image by Jan Mallander from Pixabay 

The dead don’t talk, they don’t play games
They walk through doors
Somewhere a chain to bind them to time
Over time the stories have grown 
To keep the local boys from playing in the old mill House
Many have entered and never returned
The towns folk say it should be pulled down
The sea has tried to reclaim the old mill house
It stands perilously at the edge of the land
If you visit the grave of Tommy Wilson
You lose the power of free will
To plead with your mind would be useless
You enter the old mill house, never to be seen again…


©AnitaDawes2022


The Mountain… #MLMM Wordle298 #Poetry

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay 

The Mountain


Imagination writes the tale I tell on this dusty road
I stood captivated as I observed the glimmering light
I walk forth, knowing there could be endless possibilities
With the sun setting, the mountain lay under a pink cloud
I was finding it hard to believe my own eyes
My personal belief now suspended
I stood in front of an unidentified flying object
wondering at the mind of the engineer
I have never seen silver so polished, no nuts or bolts
A small door slid open, I blinked
There she stood, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen
She beckoned, without hesitation I walked to her
Knowing I would leave this earth, 
And go wherever she would take me…


©AnitaDawes2022

Searching… part two The Sunday ~ Whirl #Wordle 578 #Poetry

Image from Pixabay.com

Continued from last week… Part One HERE


I wondered how I could be rid of her nagging
I exhale, pretend to listen
There was a change in the air
As though something had opened up
The break in the path we were walking looked dangerous
Somehow, she made it across
Had I missed my chance to nudge her over the edge?
No, I still needed her mind to find the legendary pot of gold
I shake myself, hoping to rid myself of the bad thoughts
I had no choice but follow her lead
Going home having failed, was not an option
Listening to her going over the clues
I remembered the walks we went on 
when we first met each other
She had great style in those days
I watch as she lights the fire for the night
Wondering if we were chasing rainbows
I fell asleep watching the old fort 
throw shadows across the land
Hoping the search for the end would come soon…


©AnitaDawes2022

Jaye’s Week… So far!

Side effects, really?

After such a dreadful October, for so many wrong reasons, this month is fast behaving like the perfect autumn weather. Damp and misty, with chilly spells and brief bouts of welcome sunshine.

Of course, this meant I had no excuse for staying indoors but to at least try to clear the shambles outside the back door. I spent over an hour out there yesterday, but it will need several more visits from me before winter sets in.

We are still trying our best to recover from the covid virus, but the lingering aftereffects are in many ways worse than the virus. Apart from the general weakness and all the aches and pains, I seem to be having weird hallucinations too. At first, I thought my vision was playing up, but it kept happening, and I saw vague people shapes and small animals going up the stairs or passing me around the house. Sis has developed vertigo, which is most unpleasant. These are both real side effects and can last for months. We won’t be sorry to see the back of them, and the sooner, the better.

 We pray we don’t get this virus again, and our booster shots are already booked.

I was determined to make some headway in the seriously cluttered office, too, weird visions notwithstanding. I have been trying to conjure more enthusiasm, which, I hope, will grant some much-needed inspiration. I actually gritted my teeth and looked at the current WIP, and surprisingly, I was pleased by what I saw; so very happy about that.

All I need now is to find where my get up and go is hiding, so I can get back to it.

(and a little normality would be wonderful!)

©JayeMarie2022

The Search ~ Mindlovemisery Menagerie ~ Wordle #296

Continued from last week. HERE

The Search



Trying to remember what I knew about St Germaine
Like clockwork, my thoughts kicked in
He was a wealthy man, into the occult
Many thought of him as a second Jesus
I hoped to find the secret documents written by him, 
and the book I searched for
They say he is a man who knows everything, who never dies
But where are these documents now?
Turning back to the altar, I wondered who had placed the camellias
I had trampled on. Were they a clue to the keyhole I needed to find?
It felt like I held an ancient charm in my hand
Mice ran around my feet, mingling with the chaos of this place
I wondered where the strong smell of peppermint had come from
There stood a young lady in her twenties, slim, some would say fairylike
She spoke first, “I thought I was the only one who had dibs on this place,
are you looking for something?”
For a moment, wondering if she was real, I couldn’t speak
The key felt hot in my hand
I answered, “I was walking when I found this place.”
Having exhausted my search for the keyhole, I thought it lay elsewhere
I didn’t want to tell her why I was here
With the amount of rubble on the floor I should have heard her walk away
It seemed she had vanished, leaving me mulling over her last words
“You never know what you could find in a place like this.”
With no keyhole, my search goes on, wondering if she was real 
and what she might know about this place…


©AnitaDawes2022

Mindlovemisery Menagerie ~ Wordle #295 ~ #Poetry


A single key hung from the ceiling
The room filled with the colours of a rainbow
The church had been derelict for years
I was transported by a single thought
Suspicion rose like a frozen hand at my back
The mediums could be right 
about the curse on this old sacred place
No time to elaborate now
I shuffle forward the small distance towards the altar
Remembering the key above my head
After making the sign of the cross
I climbed on to the altar, snatching the key
Now all I needed was the keyhole
To find the treasure hidden in Rosslyn Chapel
My search continues, no keyhole as yet
I am not the kind to give up
I will find the book of St, Germaine…


To be continued


©AnitaDawes2022