#Writephoto ~ Calling

Thursday photo prompt: Calling #writephoto

 

p1060149.jpg

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows  a snowstorm with the silhouette of a stag watching between two trees.

 

 

Calling…

 

Snow had been forecast, but Janet had promised to visit old Mrs Robson, to make sure she was warm enough and had enough to eat.

On her way home, the first flakes of snow were drifting down, gradually covering the road with a thin white blanket that softly crunched under her feet.

She wondered if it was a good idea to take the shortcut across the fields, and stood and looked around, weighing up the risk of the snow getting worse.

The snow was thicker now, reducing the visibility, but if she took the shortcut, she would be home and safe before it got any worse.

Approaching the edge of the field, a large stag appeared and stood as if barring her way between the trees. He stood motionless, a look of determination in his eyes and the tilt of his head.

Not wanting to be chased, Janet turned away and looked for another way to cross the field.

Further along the road was another opening, but the stag was there before her. It was becoming obvious that he didn’t want her to cross the field. Or was he trying to stop her from going home?

The snow was now falling in a thick curtain and it had turned bitterly cold. It probably would be safer to stay on the road, but Mrs Robson’s cottage was nearer than her house, so the decision made, she trudged along in the blinding snow. Before long, she heard someone breathing on the road behind her. She stopped and turned her head, barely making out who was following her. The stag stared back at her; his breath visible in the freezing air.

She increased her speed, almost running to the cottage.

The front door was wide open, snow already piling up inside but there was no sign of Mrs Robson. The stag made his way around the cottage to the back garden, and Janet followed him. They found Mrs Robson sitting on the ground, her leg at an angle underneath her. She looked like a pixie, covered in snow.

She smiled in welcome, but not at Janet…

©jayemarie

 

 

Blue Moon… #Poetry

fantasy-2824304_960_720.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

Blue Moon

Blue moon, the triple goddess

If you should be unfortunate enough to meet her

Do not hold her gaze

For she sees through time and space

Through all your lifetimes

She brings them to the fore

All your past misdeeds

You may be forced to live them again

Which many of us do

Under her gaze, you have become

Triple cursed

Each returning misdeed

Weighs more than you can carry

Yet under a blue moon you may be lucky

For it is said she can be appeased

By asking for her forgiveness

For on that one night when the moon shines blue

She is inclined to forgive

Those she takes a liking to

Pray that she likes the look of you…

©anitadawes

Time Master… #Poetry

 

fantasy-3517206__340.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Time, we moan is too fast, too slow

There’s never enough of it

We would all like more

Each of us has an allotted span

Would you want to know

How much you had left

To enjoy or moan about?

What if I tell you there is a place?

Where you can turn the clock back

Would you play back yesterday

A month, a year more?

To do so, you must interact

With the Time Master in a dream

Set your clock for midnight

When you wake,

turn your clock back one hour

Lay your head back on your pillow

Call for the Time Master three times

before you sleep

When the clock passes midnight for the second time

You may find yourself in a strange place

Of dark moving clouds in a world of clocks

You must find the one that matches

the one on your bedside table.

Turn the hands to midnight

You may wake in the wrong tomorrow

Depending on what you hoped for…

©anitadawes

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge…

Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 145 #PhotoPrompt

Autumn-Reading-1.png

 

The image is from Pixabay, by Michael Seibt

 

 

The

Black hiss

Of a snake

Sound out of sight

Then I found him there

Flute music filled the air

A sad lament remembered

The Black war snake ready to strike

One red poppy yet not forgotten

By many who made it home to Blighty…

©anitadawes

Fragmented Time… #Poetry

 

fear-4440916_960_720

Image by Pixabay.com

 

I am resurrected from dying dreams

 

From the ash that surrounds your world.

Like your Frankenstein, I am made from many parts

In my hand I hold the glowing fragments of time

Dark clouds hide me from the sun

Nothing works the same where I am

Rain flows upwards, the stars shine in circles

Wind blows only from the north

The moon rises when and where it pleases

Day is night, night is day

Things change in the blink of an eye

Our numbers are few, our world is fading

In order for me to remain in the universe

I must steal one fragment of time

Hide the remaining parts for humanity to find…

©anitadawes

 

bulb-1994881_960_720

Pixabay.com

 

#Wordle ~ 425

img_0515.png

 

Rushing around like a blue arsed fly

I slammed into the finger of fate

And yes, it’s written that I am destined

To collide with many unwanted events

I am free to follow my own path

Barring black cats, I hope to make it through

As a shy child, I was slow to find my own style

With the help of the Gods of light

I will forge moments to remember

No more salt tears for me

From now on my eyes will stay dry

Nothing will make me cry again

After all, this life is mine

Only I can live it…

©anitadawes

Jaye’s Journal # Week 41

 

Jaye's Journal x12

 

Does anyone really enjoy promoting their work?

 

At the beginning of the week I managed to bite the bullet and bravely announce the launch of my latest masterpiece, Silent PayBack. I asked for help from our writing/reading community and was very surprised by the immediate response that almost overwhelmed me.

Like a lot of authors, I am not fond of all the trumpet blowing that you need to do to send your brainchildren out into the world.  It usually comes as a great surprise to many writers to discover we prefer the peace and solitude of our writing caves, rather than the noisy, complicated world of publishing and promotion.

In the real world, parents send their offspring into the world to find their own way, confident they have equipped them with everything they will ever need to make a success of their lives. You see them turn away to return to the now empty nest, trying not to feel sad that this stage of their lives is over.

Writing a book is not like this.

We cannot simply stand at the door and wave goodbye, confident we have done all we can. We must go with our creation, often equipped with a virtual crowbar to prise open all those tightly closed doors!

This week, I am floundering around like a ship with no rudder. I stumble from one problem to another, making to do lists like there will be no tomorrow. If I do manage to achieve anything, it seems to happen by magic and not by intent.

I have done book tours before, with moderate success but always with the same low level of confidence, probably due to my lack of know how.

This time, however, I have tried to learn more about the process, in order to make it easier and ensure more book sales.

But between you and me, I cannot wait until I can retreat into my cave and pick up my favourite writing pen again!

 

para one

1.PayBack Memes.jpg

 

Huge thanks for everyone who has offered to help with the launch, and all those who have grabbed a copy at the Pre-sale on Amazon.

A bargain at just .99p or $.99 for one more week!

Amazon UK:  amzn.to/2p4xxzg

Amazon US:   amzn.to/2LXHgjO

 

#Writephoto ~ Stillness #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Stillness #writephoto

 

weymouth-028.jpg

image by scvincent.com

The image shows the dark silhouette of a cliff and against a calm sea and a sun-gold horizon.

 

 

#writephoto

 

Rock, sea and sky, what more could I ask for

The stillness, oh, the stillness

Where birds dare not fly, the air undisturbed

My heart slows in memory of a time unspoken

The quickening begins as I step into the salt sea

My mind invaded with primitive thoughts

An old-time movie, how long has it played there

How many minds have changed, standing here?

Did they notice time playing before their eyes?

Am I the only fool to stand wrapped in stillness?

My mind damaged by no sound entering

No help to rearrange my thoughts

What do I take back from this strange place?

Will it be renewed stillness of mind to carry me

through the remainder of my life…

©anitadawes