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
The Others
I was meant to remember but I could not.
It felt as if a part of my mind had been cut away
Hidden from me
I search the dark space in between
Finding the thin veil that separates our world.
I see the missing part of my memory floating,
hands reaching, trying to take it for their own
I wondered if forgotten memories
lived here in this thin world
Those that live here, need us to forget
To rebuild their broken minds
From the free-floating forgetfulness of others…
© Anita Dawes 2021
What do you see # 63 – January 4, 21
( 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
I am eighteen and my life is broken
I need a new one. With no idea how
or where to find one. Some would say
I am too young to give up on life.
They would feel the same if they had
a hundred lifetimes stuck inside their heads
Their voices, their faces swirl around like a cyclone
All vying for attention, needing to be heard
To be remembered. There is one girl
that shows up more often than the others.
She looks like me, could almost be a twin
All but for the scar on my chin.
Riding home on my bike from college, I hit a small pothole
I flew over the handlebars and landed flat on my face.
Helped up by a passing stranger,
who gave me a hanky for the blood dripping from my chin.
Walking the rest of the way home, I realised
I could no longer hear the voices in my head
They were all gone. I was the only one left
I felt ready to begin my life again…
©anitadawes 2020
Love Broken
There’s a sad song on the radio
Love broken like a glass fallen
The scattered pieces only fit for the bin
Somethings can’t be glued together
Nor plastered over
Yet the search goes on
For a love unfettered by pain
Each kiss from a stranger
Tells a story
Keep looking for that kiss
That has no story
Only you in mind…
©anitadawes 2020
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!
I found this the other day when choosing a selection of Anita’s poems for the book we want to publish, and it seems to fit with all that has been happening…
Broken
Have you ever had one of those days
when you feel as though you are made of glass?
I am having one today.
I can feel small pieces slipping away as I walk
I am broken, disappearing slowly
I can almost see the pieces glistening behind me
like a trail of breadcrumbs.
Will someone follow and put me together again?
©anitadawes 2020
