#Flights of Fancy ~ Winds… #Poetry

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Winds

Ancient nymphs and dancing girls

I will conjure thee

Helped by age old winds

Treasures held for far too long

Buried beneath the paths you walk

Ask and it shall be given

Dig and you shall find is better

Gold buries way back in time

By those who fled the battle royal

Buried beside hedgerows

Where morning glories greet the early riser

Treasures at his feet…

AAAAA

Jaye’s Journal ~ week 17

 

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For so many reasons this week has been a nightmare.

I received a letter from the hospital summoning me for another look at my cataracts. This has imposed a deadline on my editing, for after that date, I may not be able to see what I’m doing, depending on when or if they decide to do something this time.

Seriously though, I am getting really fed up with not being able to see properly. Everything is blurred, and print is so small.  And don’t get me started on the headaches!

Having a deadline is one hell of a way to buck my ideas up, that’s for sure.

Just when I was feeling positive about everything and things were moving  along swimmingly, BT decided to upgrade their email site, resulting in the most awful balls up. If this is what passes as ‘better’, I must be a monkey’s uncle!

Not only is it poorly arranged, but the layout sucks, AND it keeps going wrong! I mean, I don’t ask for much, just that things work the way they’re supposed to.

Moving on to what I’m supposed to be doing, the editing of PayBack. Right in the middle of thinking I was doing a brilliant job, I realised that somehow I was out of my depth. This turned into what the hell did I think I was doing, so everything crashed right there!

I am beginning to think my brain has finally decided to be old and past it after all. All without consulting me, I might add. I keep forgetting where I am in the process of editing, and what I’m supposed to be doing. I spread all these chapters on my desk, trying to make sure the plot was running smoothly. I found myself staring at them, with absolutely no clue. My head was empty, and I had never felt so lost in my life.

I don’t understand what is happening, for I usually breeze through editing. Hell, I was an editor long before I became a writer and love doing it. The chance to polish your story until it shines is a glorious part of writing, and here I was, unable to organise a piss up in a brewery.

Editing, as you know, is a series of systematically checking everything. You must be methodical and do things in the right order, something I seemed to have forgotten how to do.

For the first time in my writing career, I might need an independent edit…  Something I never thought I would ever say…

And if all of this wasn’t bad enough, I have eaten all the chocolate!

watermark xjj

 

 

99 Word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

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April 18, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about gender. It can be fixed or fluid. Explore the topic on your own terms and open your mind to possibilities and understanding. Go where the prompt leads!

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Boys and girls

My mother’s despair plain to see

At my unladylike behaviour

As I climb the conker tree

With my dress tucked inside my underwear

To beat the boys was my game

I take my brother’s double cap gun holster

Make my own bow and arrow

Dolls and frills were not for me

Until a daughter came to me

I dress her in silks and frills

As my mother would have liked to see

Quite the woman I turned out to be

My daughter never climbed a tree

No guns, no bows and arrows

Today’s boys and girls play the same…

AAAAA

How to Help…

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

How to Help

Trapped in silence, in a world not my own.

Golden castles on purple lawns, trees with leaves of blue beneath

Pink clouds on navy skies, with orange stars like staring eyes

Golden bridge leads to clock tower bright, beyond the castle gate,

Through shining castle walls she stands,

Her heart beats in frozen time inside her flowing gown

Eyes that search for hands to touch, to take from wizards spell,

Her body that he snatched, held inside a rock of old

A doorstep now to his castle black, quantum leap I need,

 As I watch children play under midnight skies

They sing of a time when their golden castle will return

To bricks and mortar, with a queen they can touch.

I cannot find a way to help. In silence held by wizard’s spell

To echoes beyond golden castles gate…

AAAAA

Walls…

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Walls

These hollow walls, tales unfold

Time trapped in memory

Time ticks on, murders unsolved

Death awaits those who live here

Psychic band of travellers step inside

Woman’s bones they find

 Beside her, small bones wrapped in cloth

How long they waited to see the light

The world to know of their plight

Father’s shame, for daughter’s sin

He lay beneath the wooden boards

Blessings now they say are held

Tears to send sweet souls to freedoms day

How many souls lie trapped in hollow walls?

AAAAA

Something… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Something

You are my something, that indefinable thought

The itch I cannot scratch, the memory that never fades

Dreams born from frozen mist

Raindrops on glass sliding to oblivion.

Something that returns from fantasy, claiming existence.

An echo redefined by sound

Words reused that grow too thin

Time taken in nightmares where screaming never ends

That broken light where shadows grow,

Twisting life before it begins.

Hearts are broken where forests burn, trails of ash

Footsteps followed to the edge of time

Where church bells no longer ring.

People cower, sat within, waiting

For their special moment to begin

If you can dream it, you can have it,

you may only have one chance

Don’t let your something pass you by…

AAAAA

#The Sunday Whirl ~ #Wordle 400

 

 

Sacred Site

His newborn wings formed by ancient light

Lift him high above England green and pleasant land

Yet bittersweet the sight below

Broken monuments where stained glass no longer glows

No limit to pilgrim’s footfall

Still, they come to climb the ridge where the tower stands

Soothe worn out feet in water that ever flows

Quench their thirst from the White Spring spray

Where no salt lies within

Joseph’s blossom tree has stood the test of time

Offers shade, rest awhile

Hear the whispered songs of old

Feel the beat of ancient wings where power still remains…

AAAAA

I See You… #Poetry

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I See You

I See You

I see a piece of you

like a puzzle that has slipped out of place

it’s the reason you are out of step with your life.

I see the chaos in the space between

strange moments that don’t fit

that don’t belong to you.

As if someone is trying to occupy

the space before it closes.

I hear your voice, the sound belongs to another

harsh, cruel. It scares me as if someone

has taken a piece of my mind.

Does it match your missing part?

Will we find a way to put them back in place

I see a piece of you

like a puzzle that has slipped out of place

it’s the reason you are out of step with your life.

I see the chaos in the space between

strange moments that don’t fit

that don’t belong to you.

As if someone is trying to occupy

the space before it closes.

I hear your voice, the sound belongs to another

harsh, cruel. It scares me as if someone

has taken a piece of my mind.

Does it match your missing part?

Will we find a way to put them back in place

will life tear more away,

as if we were no more than cardboard cut-outs

from a forgotten jigsaw puzzle…

AAAAA