#In Remembrance…

 

 

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Soldier Blue

On foreign soil a soldier falls, a poppy grows

They send them back to lie alone.

We carve their names on grey stonewalls

We sent them out to fight for freedoms call.

Few come back with wounds that heal

Inside horrors, they will not recall

Soldiers fought so we can live on English soil…

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Witchcraft… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Witchcraft

On moonlit nights I walk among the tombstones

Looking for the one taken from me

Her soul trapped by heavy stone

She calls to me

Jealous minds laid her there

Pointing fingers, witchcraft they said

My sweet Annabel, no harm would she make

Her healing touch now lost to those in need

They are poorer for her passing

How is it I am still here if human she be?

Did those pointing fingers know what I could not?

Did love’s blinkers keep me blind?

Is she truly there beneath the ground

Is my mind wrapped in her spell?

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Autumn Colour Display…

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Despite the warm weather we have been having lately, the signs of autumn are galloping towards us. Little by little, my Bonsai are getting ready for their winter sleep and their leaves are gradually beginning to change colour. As they start to close down, they change colour, imperceptible at first, then transformed by the red and gold just before losing their leaves.
The colour change is a wonderful sight, but when the tiny leaves begin to fall I always feel a little sad, as I miss seeing them in leaf.

It reminds me more poignantly that I am approaching my own autumn (and hopefully I won’t turn scarlet!) emphasised mainly by the fact that I am not at my best this week.  My body is already telling me that I will not enjoy the cold weather and some of my joints are having a practice run!

I have been doing a lot of gazing out of my window this week (as I don’t feel like doing much else) and just love the way Mother Nature goes about her business, come hell or high water. Maybe we could all learn from her example, especially me. But I’m afraid it is all too easy for me to find excuses for not doing what I ought. I find myself constantly using my age as the perfect excuse, and I really must stop doing that, it’s pathetic and doesn’t match how I have lived my life up until now.
The only thing I have always known for sure is that you can do anything, provided you want to enough. So if you are still breathing, just get on with it!

It is easy to think of autumn as the end of life as we know it, when in fact it is just part of the sequence. A resting time to reflect on how much better and brighter next spring will be. And we need that slowing down, as working flat out all the time is unsustainable. We need to look back at the past year and really see what worked and what didn’t.

You know what I mean, all those things you thought were important at the time but turned out not to be. I have learned such a lot this year, but the fact that I am still making colossal mistakes only proves there is so much more to do.

It would be easy to mimic the seasons, shut down and hibernate until spring arrives; and I must admit that sounds incredibly tempting…

But we have books to finish, Anita’s busily scribbling away, so lots of editing there. I also have a pile of how-to notes to wade through. Some to digest, others to discard; time to clear the decks and really get organised, ready for a new year with all those lovely new possibilities…

And a big thank you to all those of you who have helped us this year, you know who you are…

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#Flights of Fancy: Run… #poetry

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Run

Do we always want more than we can have

Search for things we will never find?

Questions with no answers,

Driving mind to scream.

What then when wild thoughts show in your eyes

Do people stammer when they speak to you?

Do they hide in corners, hoping not to be seen?

Do they run from your approach

Pretending lateness is their call?

Is madness framed in garments white

Keys jingle stop you from walking out

Is life now bound within these walls of grey

Has mind forgotten how to pray for freedoms flight?

Let men say that you are crazed

To me, you are a vase that is cracked

Yet water holds the flowers still

They bloom in memory of love within your broken shell

My name you lost with a ticking clock

I sit, I watch, I wait for memories lost

Make one happy moment when time returns

To hear my name whispered upon your lips…

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Halloween Chills! Taken

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Taken

Don’t go to the house on Willow Lane

Mother said today

Mrs Hill’s sweets will make you ill

She lost her only child

Now Halloween she hates

She waits for little Jimmy

With spirits to return

To wash her guilt away

She left him by the river

It took his life away…

©Anita Dawes