June BlogBattle: Scar ~ #Poetry

June 2022 Blog Battle

Ocean Deep


The scar I carry is not visible
so many years later it hurts
like carrying a suitcase full of rocks
It started with name calling
Then my chair pulled away as I sat
They threw things at me, homework got torn
Things got worse, the older we grew
too many things
I try not to remember,
The rocks on my back are enough
Over the years, 
some of the rocks have fallen away
Memory plays its part
Yet the scar is deep, like the ocean dark
I heard someone say, we adopt memories
If that’s the case, I wish I could give them back
To swim in a clear ocean
It took too many years hiding
Not until the day I met him, did I learn to smile
Some of the rocks fell away from my back
When children came along, 
the suitcase grew a great deal lighter
I keep one rock on the kitchen window sill
To remember every scar is not visible
I pray that my children grow up scar free
If not, I hope they learn 
to carry their wounds better than I did
I look in the mirror at years past
I see the rock that holds me to family
Life is good…

©AnitaDawes2022

#BlogBattle ~ Merge ~ #Poetry

December #BlogBattle: Merge

Carrie doesn’t live here anymore
I walk from room to room
The air that wrapped her, touches me
Echoing past time
The cushion on her chair sags with age
Pointing at me, accusingly. screaming
Why doesn’t Carrie live here anymore?
I melt into the wallpaper
Old, musty, dry walls
I feel the weight of age
I see the room through faded colours
Tears held by fading flowers
Paper peeling like old skin
I feel like a ticking clock without the tick
Worn out by time, the hands stuck 
At ten past twelve
I see it on the mantelpiece
The fire long cold, 
as Carrie doesn’t live here anymore
A cold breeze rolled the walls
That’s when I realised, I no longer live here…

© AnitaDawes 2021

#BlogBattle ~ Hypnotic ~ #Poetry

November #BlogBattle: Hypnotic



A shadow plays behind my back
A court jester, making fun of my life
Would that I could cut myself free
From the thing that follows me
At the same time, I find it fascinating
Hypnotic, troublesome
How has my shadow taken on a life of its own?
What does it mean for me?
How far is it going to go?
It is taking the mickey out of the way I walk
Each time I trip, I look clumsy as I fall
It’s my shadows fault
I see his head rock back with laughter
I never fully turn to face it
The corner of my eye works well
Somehow, his mickey taking
Is transferring to my life
I wonder if I have been hexed
by a friend for some slight I have forgotten
If so, how do I break the spell?
Get my true shadow back
The one that watches over me…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#BlogBattle ~ Scattered ~ #Poetry

October #BlogBattle: Scattered


My granddaughter dropped her kaleidoscope
From the top window
Tiny, coloured pieces scattered across the patio
I heard her little footsteps running down the stairs
Holding my breath, hoping she wouldn’t fall
Three-year-olds often know no fear
The tiny jewels shone under bright sunlight
Lost treasure belonging to the shining ones
Running into the kitchen where I stood
Watching the coloured dancing lights
Renewing my faith in magic
“I didn’t throw it Nan,
I tried to find more light to make the pieces shine”
Hugging my leg, her tears drying on my apron
Looking at her tear-stained face
I couldn’t tell her off for playing near an open window
Taking her hand, we walked outside
We will go to town and buy a new one
With a sob in her voice, she said
“It is a broken rainbow…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#BlogBattle ~ Myth ~ #Poetry

Billy was grandads neighbour when they were kids
Billy would be late for school, meeting his friends
They would get fed up waiting, leaving him to catch up
His mum said it was because he was a little behind the other kids.
He didn’t walk until he was two and a half
Even then, he would rather crawl, or sit where they left him.
Things didn’t get better with age, and he’s on a warning from work.
Those that know him will tell you he would be late for his own funeral.
No point telling him to pull his socks up.
His boss had blown those words into the wind
Did he feel the smack as they returned?

William, as he liked to be called, now he was all grown,
took up running, hoping it would help his timekeeping
William loved his job at the kennels, as the animals never judged him
Looking at his watch, he knew he would never make it
As he started running, his feet came up from the ground,
running faster than the wind, with two minutes to spare, he made it.
From that day on, he arrived on time, helped by the wind at his back
That was how grandad told the story.
When I asked if anyone had seen him with his feet above the ground
I did, he said. And Johnny Faux, my best mate

© Anita Dawes 2021

#BlogBattle ~ Abstract ~ #Poetry

June #BlogBattle: Abstract

Odds and sods, bits, and bobs
Throw them together
like the sherbet bits of my brain
What do you get?
A kaleidoscope look at life
A fantasy in colour
Stripes, cubes, dots, whatever you fancy
Throw all your colours at the canvas
Watch as they mix, making their own self portrait
A strange sea to drown yourself in
Dip your toe in, watch the colours rush up your leg
Turn you into a striped candy stick of rock
Now that’s my idea of abstract
Anything you like if it relates to the odd…

© Anita Dawes 2021

BlogBattle ~ Owl

April #BlogBattle: Owl

I love watching the birds in my garden.

This year, we have more birds with the feeders, including red kites in the skies above. The robin with his wonderful red breast and skinny black legs is my favourite.

Jackdaws with their pale blue eyes can look a little menacing, especially after watching a punch up one afternoon between three of them.

The thing I like best is watching the birds pulling twigs from the trees for their nest. They can be so fussy, dropping all the ones I don’t like on my lawn.

It’s a similar story from my front window.

Across the road, we have three hazelnut trees. Here I can watch the building of a nest. The resident blackbird loves to dive into the bush below beside the tree.

One time, trying to take a chosen twig with him, he left it sticking out like a flagpole.

I must confess; I know nothing about owls apart from what I see on TV.

Silent when flying for their food, their cry haunting, like the cry of the lost, still wandering the afterlife for a home.

Their beautiful eyes give off a sense of loneliness, but maybe that’s just me and the strange feeling I receive when watching them.

Our feathered friends, a reminder of days walking with dinosaurs…

© Anita Dawes 2021

BlogBattle ~ Revolution

February #BlogBattle: Revolution

February 2021 Blog Battle

The word this month is:

Revolution

My dad had a lot of crazy ideas, this one was the best crazy yet.
Mum said it would be in the yard by
the end of the week with the rest of his junk.
The hugest telescope I had ever seen.
Dad and I put it together, learned how to focus it.
That night from the spare bedroom, my heart jumped from star to star.
fourteen years old and I know what I want to do with my life.
I told dad I wanted to work at the Hubble Observatory.
That night I witnessed my first spiral galaxy.
I had fallen into one of mum’s bible stories.
Revelations came to mind; something began for me that night.
Mum was right, dad will be bored by the end of the week.
Some might say, dad had been marked by the beast 666.
a number that drives the crazy in him.
mum wouldn’t like to hear me say that,
she would be crossing herself half the day,
saying Jonathan, mind your tongue!
Before going to bed, I made sure dad knew I wanted the telescope.
He smiled; we didn’t need too many words,
I knew the scope was mine…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#BlogBattle: Charm ~ #Poetry

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#BlogBattle: Charm

Blogbattle_CHARM

Old, yet never world weary
Built when a time passed slow
When people could not be asked to rush
Romance meant holding hands
Walking out for months
Getting to know each other
Where a look from across the room
Would have you spellbound
Unspoken words, understood by the heart
So much old-fashioned charm, lost to time
I would wish it back, where a gentleman
holds the door open for you to pass
What charm is there, in todays panicked, rushed world?
I want to tell you that charm remains.
I had a young boy, of about twelve
Hold the door to the chemist open for me
I was bowled over by his charm
I smiled all the way home
How had he learned to be so polite
So charming…

© anita dawes 2020

BlogBattle: Exotic ~ #Poetry

#BlogBattle: Exotic

October 2020 Blog Battle

Our word this month is:

Exotic

Blogbattle_EXOTIC

New Magic

Merlin no longer walks the halls of Camelot
Where Arthur lost his love
Where Knights search for the Holy cup
Dark castle walls crackle with magic
Old lightning storms echo through forest glades
Whispering spirits can be heard, worry not,
time will return, new magic will be found
Blown in by eastern winds
Exotic sounds beat against your eardrums
Foreign yet fresh, east meets west
Blending, folding into new ideas
New religions, new magic from old…

©anitadawes 2020