#MLMM Photo Challenge #353 #Poetry

Photo by Ellie Burgin on Pexels.com

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Birthday celebrations,

Red ribbons tied,

On presents bright.

Kind wishes, extra kisses,

Eager faces, family waiting.

Nearer to forty than you want to be.

Days stretch out like fallen ribbons.

Answers found to questions asked,

In a search that had you turned around,

Sad petals fall away.

Yesterday’s gone, yet we carry on…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Why I Love being a Blogger…

Image by Daniel Agrelo from Pixabay

Like many of us, we began this blog because we needed a platform to tell the world we were writers and show off our books.

We didn’t have a clue when we started, stumbling around, making more mistakes than we want to remember now, but we have learned so much and still find new stuff to know all the time.

Along the way, so many things have tried to defeat us, like PowerPoint, Book Funnel and Mailerlite. And of course, marketing in all its many forms still presents an almost daily challenge! I sometimes wish I weren’t quite so stubborn, as there are days, I could admit defeat and walk away. But it hasn’t happened yet, and I doubt it ever will, fingers crossed!

Somehow, nine years have passed, and our humble blog now has over 5.000 followers!

It would take me forever to thank everyone who has brought us this far, but we do thank you all for simply being there with all your wonderful and often helpful comments.

Every day we get to visit so many different countries, meeting people and chatting about all manner of subjects. We get involved, virtually of course, in some exciting and often constructive conversations, many about issues that are close to our hearts, like photography, writing, gardening, bonsai and poetry, the list is endless…

On any one day, there can be several ongoing conversations, either by email or on our website/blog. It is impossible to feel lonely, even in these difficult days, with all these lovely people to talk to.

Hopefully, we have many more years to come, as there are still so many bridges to cross…

When I wrote this post I had no idea that this theme was being highlighted on The Insecure Writer’s Support Group, so thought it would be a good idea to link with them, to show our support!

Anita’s Surprise response to Jim Webster’s post ~ Hedging in your shirt sleeves…

Hedging in your shirt sleeves

Anita surprised me this morning, by asking to read your post, Jim as she is determined to learn the finer arts of blogging/ Here is the original post and Anita’s comments…

Good morning Jim,

The hedge… a good way to remember your grandfather.

Tackling the hedge… sounds to me as if your grandfather is still having fun.

The new younger stuff… seems to me a blend of two souls, old and new.

Todays hedges… here I can see nothing goes to waste.

(Personally, I like order)

laying hedges… I hope you have better luck this time.

Complaining … people do like to moan. It’s what keeps them going on to the next good moan, as to the schemes and contracts, it’s a wonder you know which end is up. I believe nothing is ever truly wasted, it’s a learning curve to another person’s way of life.

Tuesday… I would like to spend a day on your farm with my sleeves rolled up.

Jaye would love to know how you placed those four hearts at the bottom of your post…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Jaye’s Week…

” …of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most…” Mark Twain

The New Year and the new month have been slipping past me at an alarming rate, and what with being under house arrest and suffering a miserable cold (at least I hope it’s a cold) I am becoming a bit depressed.

I haven’t been doing anything creative. I can’t think straight and just realised how close I am getting to despair.

I have small moments of pull yourself together girl and quite a few just have a look at the WIP… but nothing is working. It feels like an eternity since anything was normal, and not much hope of any of it turning up.

Every now and then, I have a moment when life seems better and my head clears, only to vanish again when the paracetamol wears off, leaving me a pathetic sniffing heap again. It isn’t just the aching joints, headache and streaming nose, the depression is worming its way into everything.

I have been trying to keep on top of the emails and other small jobs, but anything else just slips through my fingers. But I have been doing a lot of thinking about the future of Books & Bonsai. Not enough, obviously, to get me doing anything creative but at least the grey matter is trying to function. My WIP is haunting me. It’s a mess, with piles of notes depending on what I have already researched. Before I can move in any direction, I must make a workable plan.

And this morning, that was what I did. The germs have retreated enough to allow a little get up and go to creep back into my life, and I now have a new list.

Yay!

ABOUT US: For those new to our website and blog, we would like to thank you for visiting. Between us, we write in several different genres, so there should be something for everyone to enjoy. Anita cannot abide computers, so I (Jaye) do all the technical (oily rag) stuff! Our books tend to be varied, from horror to supernatural romance and coming of age, and mystery thrillers.  We try to keep our website interesting with guest posts, bloggers, poetry, and reviews for all the books we read. Our books are shown in the right-hand sidebar and clicking on the images should take you straight to Amazon.

If you enjoyed your visit, we would love you to leave a comment…

Hoping to see you again!

#Keepitalive ~ #Whatdoyousee ~ #WDYS ~ #Poetry

Keep it alive

What do you see # 63 – January 4, 21

Image credit; Rodrigo Curi @ Unsplash

( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows the sun setting over the horizon, and in the foreground, you can see rail tracks)

I sit beneath the red light of a dying day
Waiting for the next train to take me away
from the tears shed in this town
The gentle sound of water
Soothing my broken heart
He said he loved me while loving another
I cannot be an extra string to his bow
One more notch on his bed post
I need to be someone’s one and only…

© anita dawes 2021

Jaye’s New Year…

Reporting in for the New Year…

I am sitting at my writing desk, pen in hand but I am looking out of the window. Or trying to.

It is still dark outside, the faint outline of the houses opposite beginning to show in silhouette against the slowly changing tones of the dawn sky.

The window in front of me is a dark mirror. The ghostly image I see reflected in the glass is of an old woman, care worn and tired, looking back at me.

What is she doing?

She is not writing, not yet but I can tell that she will.

Emotions twist and turn as I consider myself and what the past, slowly receding nightmare of a year has reduced me to.

A year that has thrown everything it could lay its hands on at all of us, leaving bitter flotsam in its wake.

I intended to start the new year with a good deal of positivity, to try and rebuild the dreams that took such a battering in 2020.

Finding most of them wasn’t easy, as they didn’t want to be found. That was when I realised that rebuilding them wouldn’t be easy either.

I can sympathise, for I am bruised and battered too.

The trouble for most of us, is that all the bad stuff didn’t magically vanish on the stroke of midnight. Some may never go away completely.

So what will happen in 2021?

All I know is this – we may be battered and a bit ragged around the edges, but we are not beaten, not by a long shot.

We will simply do our absolute best, like always…

© Jaye Marie 2021

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge ~ #Poetry #FFFC

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #98

The image is from the Google Photo Frame.

For the visually challenged writer, the image is the drawing of a girl’s face. The girl appears to be lying on her side.

So young, so wide eyed
From pencil scratching comes so much
Does she see her future?
Is it filled with the sadness?
That welling in her eyes
Has she been left to lie alone?
For too long that hope has died
Look deeper, there are no tears
She cannot cry
Dark days, evil hands
have stolen her childhood away…

© ANITA DAWES 2020

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 488 ~ #Poetry

Words fly
Shot from a crossbow, they reach far and wide
They create and destroy, wound, and give pleasure
Making you smile, making you cry
They have no sell by date
Some may lift you up, carry you through a cold day
They have also been known to change someone’s life
for the better, unlike the trial of Sunday school sermons.
Over the years, they have taught me not to be afraid
The cruel barbed words of school years long behind me
Still I find, it is best to say a kindness
Before it is too late

© anita dawes 2020

The Temperamental Christmas Tree…

Image by Jaye Marie

The Temperamental Christmas Tree

We didn’t want a big tree this Christmas, so when we saw this pretty fibre optic tree in the shop window, we took it home, content with our preparations.

The next time we went to town, we spotted a wonderful tree in a charity shop window. This was a small tree too, although quite different from the one we already had. Old fashioned ribbons and flowers gave it an old-world charm, as if it had come straight from a Dickens novel.

We had to buy it, even though we already had a tree.

It was decided that the Dickens tree would be in pride of place in our decorations, relegating the fibre optic tree to the dining room.

Image by Jaye Marie

And this, as they say, is when the fun started.

On the first night, the fibre optic tree turned itself off at 10 pm. Puzzled, we checked the instructions, but it wasn’t supposed to do that. It hadn’t overheated either. Before we could turn it on the second day, it turned itself on and then off again at 10pm!

We made sure it was switched off, thinking it just a fluke, although it felt distinctly weird. We are quite used to weird in this house. Remember that red light reflecting on our window, the one we never could find the reason for?

The next night, we switched it on and waited. It felt uneasy, as if someone we couldn’t see was controlling the tree.

It was one of those trees that has the capability of a choice of different light patterns. Twinkling, fading and several other combinations. We only wanted the static light, so we were very glad it didn’t decide to muck about with the sequence too.

Despite the weirdness, we have kept the tree… and it has turned itself on every afternoon, and off in time for bed.

What would you have done in these circumstances, chucked it out or run for the hills?

© Jaye Marie 2020