The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 580 ~ #Poetry

Image by Jan Mallander from Pixabay 

The dead don’t talk, they don’t play games
They walk through doors
Somewhere a chain to bind them to time
Over time the stories have grown 
To keep the local boys from playing in the old mill House
Many have entered and never returned
The towns folk say it should be pulled down
The sea has tried to reclaim the old mill house
It stands perilously at the edge of the land
If you visit the grave of Tommy Wilson
You lose the power of free will
To plead with your mind would be useless
You enter the old mill house, never to be seen again…


©AnitaDawes2022


The Mountain… #MLMM Wordle298 #Poetry

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay 

The Mountain


Imagination writes the tale I tell on this dusty road
I stood captivated as I observed the glimmering light
I walk forth, knowing there could be endless possibilities
With the sun setting, the mountain lay under a pink cloud
I was finding it hard to believe my own eyes
My personal belief now suspended
I stood in front of an unidentified flying object
wondering at the mind of the engineer
I have never seen silver so polished, no nuts or bolts
A small door slid open, I blinked
There she stood, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen
She beckoned, without hesitation I walked to her
Knowing I would leave this earth, 
And go wherever she would take me…


©AnitaDawes2022

Your Inner Eye… #Poetry

The image is from Sarolta Bán Photography.
Your Inner Eye


This forest of trees my son
Is a tribute to all the great artists
who walked the earth many years ago
There are those that paint 
The star filled skies
Jewels that dance above our head
Like Van Gogh's Starry Night
Monet painted the ground
Gardens to dream in
So many of us do not have the inner eye
To see the beauty
To have the desire to capture on canvas
Without the hands that held paintbrushes
The world would be a duller place
Not forgetting, the many that decorate 
The churches, cathedrals, places of worship
With a little added inspiration of coloured glass
If you can feel it in your heart
You might find your inner eye…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Lord of Light… #TheSundayWhirl #Wordle 579 #Poetry

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay 

The Lord of light had me in a whirl
My thoughts spun, like a giant Catherine wheel
I am losing my grip on life
I see disaster loom large in the distance
Every now and then, I glimpse a tiny light
In the crack of my mind, I curl into a small ball 
I wonder about my future, my body goes slack
As new thoughts crawl through the black space
My future is being written by a voice in my head
My hope now, is that love is woven into all I do and say…


©AnitaDawes2022

Searching… part two The Sunday ~ Whirl #Wordle 578 #Poetry

Image from Pixabay.com

Continued from last week… Part One HERE


I wondered how I could be rid of her nagging
I exhale, pretend to listen
There was a change in the air
As though something had opened up
The break in the path we were walking looked dangerous
Somehow, she made it across
Had I missed my chance to nudge her over the edge?
No, I still needed her mind to find the legendary pot of gold
I shake myself, hoping to rid myself of the bad thoughts
I had no choice but follow her lead
Going home having failed, was not an option
Listening to her going over the clues
I remembered the walks we went on 
when we first met each other
She had great style in those days
I watch as she lights the fire for the night
Wondering if we were chasing rainbows
I fell asleep watching the old fort 
throw shadows across the land
Hoping the search for the end would come soon…


©AnitaDawes2022

The Search ~ Mindlovemisery Menagerie ~ Wordle #296

Continued from last week. HERE

The Search



Trying to remember what I knew about St Germaine
Like clockwork, my thoughts kicked in
He was a wealthy man, into the occult
Many thought of him as a second Jesus
I hoped to find the secret documents written by him, 
and the book I searched for
They say he is a man who knows everything, who never dies
But where are these documents now?
Turning back to the altar, I wondered who had placed the camellias
I had trampled on. Were they a clue to the keyhole I needed to find?
It felt like I held an ancient charm in my hand
Mice ran around my feet, mingling with the chaos of this place
I wondered where the strong smell of peppermint had come from
There stood a young lady in her twenties, slim, some would say fairylike
She spoke first, “I thought I was the only one who had dibs on this place,
are you looking for something?”
For a moment, wondering if she was real, I couldn’t speak
The key felt hot in my hand
I answered, “I was walking when I found this place.”
Having exhausted my search for the keyhole, I thought it lay elsewhere
I didn’t want to tell her why I was here
With the amount of rubble on the floor I should have heard her walk away
It seemed she had vanished, leaving me mulling over her last words
“You never know what you could find in a place like this.”
With no keyhole, my search goes on, wondering if she was real 
and what she might know about this place…


©AnitaDawes2022

Jaye’s Days…

Jaye’s Days

One way or another, a lot of things have been neglected by me this past year.

At the beginning of the year, I spent a lot of time outside in the garden, so of course, housework was the last thing on my mind. I was busy writing, too, and that was the best excuse in the world!

When the weather turned, changing from drought conditions to never-ending rain, I was back indoors, but somehow the housework wasn’t high on my list of priorities.

I tried to maintain reasonable hygiene levels in the kitchen and bathroom, but cleaning windows, dust bunnies, cobwebs and hoovering weren’t filtering through my brain. That’s when it was time to release my book, and unfortunately, the virus came calling too.

I am not firing on all cylinders yet but determined to catch up on a few things. Namely the oven and the freezer. They are two of the worst and least favourite of all jobs. Inside the oven, a meat pie had leaked most of its gravy, leaving a rapidly burning pile of goo on everything.

Then I was attacked by a huge iceberg when trying to find the ice cream in the freezer, and if it had grown any more, I wouldn’t have been able to shut the freezer door!

Day One

I staggered the work, as I still felt fragile and started on the oven. I warmed the oven in the faint hope that it would help with the cleaning process, then removed all the shelves and sprayed cleaner all over the interior. I shut the oven door and put the kettle on for a much-needed cuppa. Yes, I know I haven’t done much yet, but still.

The rest of the morning, the kitchen became a battleground as the dirt was removed from the oven and transferred to every available surface in my kitchen.

This is what I hate about housework. You do one simple job and then have to spend ages cleaning up. Mind you, the oven did look lovely.

Day Two

Time to tackle the iceberg!

I had already frozen the ice packs, ready for the defrost. We are not one of those families who can run the freezer down to nothing; it will never happen! So I have devised a method that works for me and keeps the food frozen. It usually takes an hour to transfer all the frozen food to the fridge, accompanied by multiple ice packs, and to defrost the freezer. At this point, you are banned from opening the fridge door.

I turned off the power and inspected the accumulated ice. There did seem to be a lot more of it than I thought. Would one hour be enough?

I started spraying the de-icer, only to run out halfway through. Then I added several trays of hot water and waited for the big melt to begin.

After an hour, the lump of ice looked as big as ever.  I had no choice but to continue the process and pray it wouldn’t take much longer.

When two hours had passed, I assessed the progress. The ice had retreated but not by much. If I waited any longer, I risked losing the food, which was probably having serious thoughts about defrosting by now.

Out came the hairdryer, and on my knees, I gave the ice one last assault. I even bashed it with a wooden spatula in my desperation. But I had to concede defeat.

Maybe after Christmas, I could have another go?

I know housework can be boring, and normally I wouldn’t go on about it, but honestly, this is the most fun I have had in months…

©JayeMarie2022

November #BlogBattle: Cultivate

At the beginning of 2022, I had the overwhelming notion of cultivating something. Something I had never had much luck with before.

I chose tomatoes.

I had always wanted to do this, but previous efforts had always failed for one reason or another. This time, I was sure we would grow our own tomatoes.

I researched all the different types of tomatoes, confident I would make the right choice. Several packets of seeds arrived in the post, and I started to gather all the pots and soil I would need.

This was all happening when the year was young and hadn’t yet acquired that air of doom and gloom that would eventually descend and taint everything.

I felt like a proper gardener as I prepared the pots and planted the seeds. Every day I would inspect them, waiting eagerly to see the first pale new shoots appearing. I remember being so happy when the first seedlings broke through the soil.

Just one week later, I went outside to see my charges, to be met with the scene of a disaster. Something had attacked the pots, and the ground was littered with displaced soil and battered seedlings. I tried my best to replant them all, but inside, I was seething. Who or what had done this?

It seemed to take a long time for the seedlings to recover, and I secretly waited for them to curl up their toes and give up the fight. To be honest, that’s what I wanted to do, as my dream had been spoiled.

Slowly, they did recover and grew taller. Soon the pale yellow star-shaped flowers appeared, shortly followed by tiny tomatoes. Whether it was being so cruelly disturbed, the lack of sunshine, or the absence of luck, these tomatoes never grew very big. Disappointingly small, although definitely sweet.

I still wonder what had sabotaged my efforts and whether I will try again next year…

©JayeMarie2022

Abandoned #Acrostic Poetry

Image by Susan Cipriano from Pixabay 




Acrostic Poetry by Anita Dawes2022

Weekly #Poetry Challenge #ThemePrompt

#TANKATUESDAY Weekly #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 295, 10/25/22, #THEMEPROMPT

Here we are for another #TankaTuesday poetry challenge! Are you ready for a theme prompt? Anita Dawes selected this month’s theme:

What Do You Wish For? Image from Pixabay.com

One
good wish
just the one
across the globe
all minds work as one
no more tears at bedtime
no child crying in hunger
why not join the wish train today?
give the world a hug, with one good wish…

©AnitaDawes2022