#What do you see #Keepitalive #Poetry

What do you see # 13- January 20th, 2020

 

54e8d593-903d-469c-b15c-dc970d3c312f

 

bc86bc91-943c-4b3b-9b31-e1bbcc2454a7-3580-0000011d215a31c0.jpg

Image credit; Pixabay

 

No Change

In the stone circle stands a chance

To split dark from light

Offering the world below, fire

The blue moon whispering a warning

They are too young, they are not ready

Let them find their own way

You come too far from the future

To understand their way of life

Why hurry things along

When you have no way of knowing

What they might discover by time alone

Your world is driven by speed

Theirs is not, they hunt for food

They live, they are happy

Some might call it fate

I call it interference

As it has been through the ages

Name one culture that has been

Allowed to walk its own path

Wars, famine, floods have changed so much

Of what might have been

For once, I would like to see

Where they would travel by themselves

Without interference

I hear you all shouting

It was meant to be…

©anitadawes 2020

Outside…

 

dark-1936954_1920.jpg

Image by Jordan Stimpson from Pixabay 

Outside

When morning shadows fade

I shrink back into darkness

Forgotten until daylight

When I can once again search

For the one who stole my lifeforce

While I was dreaming me.

Yet, he has no face, not fully formed

I must be quick before he takes

More from the shadows

To become the one I am meant to be

Leaving me in darkness

Never to step into the light

To find my own form

To live outside my own form

My own shadow…

©anitadawes 2020

#The Sunday Whirl ~Wordle 439

banner.jpg

img_1695.png

 

One slim chance to catch the wolf

The chill wind at my back

Nicely scratching the itch

A warm sun tendril illuminating

The ground beneath my feet

My home-made arrow flew

Missing the dark brown fur by inches

He lives to swagger through another day

I allow myself one shot, and that was it

Time up, I will set my cloak

same time tomorrow.

Walking home to the hoot of an owl

I knew tomorrows arrow

would miss its target

There’s no fun in taking

down such a beauty

After all, I am not one of

Robin Hoods merry men

My age is ten, the wolf

and I have grown together

I never stand downwind,

so he knows where I am

We are connected…

©anitadawes 2020

#99 word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

January 16: Flash Fiction Challenge

cropped-carrot-ranch_lc_30july17v2.jpg

99 words, no more, no less. It’s a simple constraint, an easy-to-master literary art form, and a powerful writing tool for creatives and entrepreneurs. Writers calibrate the usefulness and beauty of 99-words through weekly flash fiction challenges.

protest.png

 

Wave your hands in the air

Like you just don’t care!

They do care very much

About the conditions they work in

Too often the loos don’t flush

Water is turned off

Waiting repair

Which takes too long

Poor management in winter

Means working in the cold

This in turn, slows down production

Which means working late

No extra pay

Too many break times cancelled

People become sick

Our floor manager asked

For hot drinks to be made

Every four hours

This went down with management

like a lead balloon

it’s no wonder we’re shouting

and waving our arms…

©anitadawes 2020

 

Cold… #Poetry

 

snow-1782614__340.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

Cold

Frost white morning

I slip my head beneath my duvet

No way are my feet moving

From this warm cover

Today I stay hidden from the world

To dream of things to come

A future made of stardust

 With bright green jewels

A land where you leave a wish

Knowing it will come true…

©anitadawes 2020

Luck… #Poetry

 

4515752af37a36485742f615a7782e6f.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

   Luck

I have chased good luck around the globe

Wondering where it hides

Trinkets bought, hung in place

Now no more than gathered dust

I have been told recently

You cannot buy it for yourself

A trinket must be given as a gift

This is your luck right there

Someone took the time

to think about you…

©anitadawes 2020

The 2.40… #Poetry

 

rails-3371495_1920.jpg

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

 

My father, a staunch academic that never flaps.

At breakfast, I met a stranger at the table

He spoke at a speed I had never heard before

I could see a hint of panic in his eyes.

He didn’t ask, so much as forbid me

to take the 2.40 train from Paddington.

Asking why his voice became calmer

I don’t know if you have heard this story

Or remember it from the newspapers

One year ago, a young man just turned eighteen

died on that train in the third carriage

It’s said he may return on the anniversary of his death

To sit in the same seat for three weeks

In the hope of finding the part of self

we all leave behind on being born.

He waits for the other half, the missing piece

To sit on the seat opposite the door.

When the right person takes that seat

He becomes whole, having entered the sitter.

There are many tales of what takes place next

You have just turned eighteen, I am asking you please,

Take the earlier train to your next job?

Seeing how much this meant to my father

I agreed, and kissing his cheek, I left for work

I felt a little odd approaching the station

Standing close to the edge of the platform

I waited that afternoon for the 2.40.

I remember asking my father why I couldn’t just

Take my journey in the second car

Father said it was best to avoid the 2.40 all together

As curiosity gets the best of some people.

I could hear the train approaching

I stood where the third car would stop

I could see a grey outline of someone sitting

in the seat Father mentioned

There were no discernible features to this mass

Shaking my head, thinking my father’s story

Must have gotten into my mind

I felt a connection, a longing, something remembered

I remembered my father saying that a soul mate

Was not someone you search for in life

It’s the missing part of self.

I knew what this meant, for I had often felt

Lost lonely unsure even when falling

in love with a boy from College

A few minutes of happiness that doesn’t last

Leaving me with the feeling of being unwhole.

Now that I have felt that missing part

I would break my word

I will sit in that seat tomorrow at 2.40

Let the missing part enter

See what life will bring…

©anitadawes 2020