A Dream Space Inside time there is a dream space Never has there been a time like now For dreams to come true Afraid to sleep, don’t be Memories fade into shadows Often repeated in a new life Under warm covers, you must dream it first So that you can be reborn... ©AnitaDawes2022
Will we meet again When I’m dreaming My heart beats loud Like the ocean Rushing to shore Searching for you Are you dreaming Waiting for me Hold the dark nights I’m on my way Will we meet again? ©AnitaDawes2022
Wake up, you’re not dead You’re dreaming The ghosts you see had their time My bones ache from walking I see new faces through the fog They smile, then vanish It’s as if I’m walking from room to room Families seated at their dinner tables Then the screaming starts Drumming against my ear Then I could see the bodies, heaped in a pile The screaming came from the women Their mouths a giant O Their eyes blank white orbs I wake to my own screaming So glad I was only dreaming… ©AnitaDawes2022
I ignore the sign Rush towards the crossroads Trembling, I stand Unable to choose Thoughts dip in and out I let them pass, no use How can I pick the right road? Toss a coin, heads you lose I feel the flow of blood Rush to my head I linger too long Chasing old dreams I drift toward the right-hand path My thoughts drifting after me They fray like old cotton on a slow draft My path chosen, I let my legs Take me where they will…
I have been told that thinking is a dangerous thing to do at my age. It is possibly a dangerous thing to do at any age if you think about it, for who knows where it may lead?
I quite like thinking, and all the things that trigger it off. Like books and pictures for instance. What I could do with is a method of keeping said thoughts, as they usually evaporate like so much smoke, never to be seen again. I make notes on everything in a vain hope of remembering all the good stuff, and it works most of the time.
Then I am told ‘what do you expect, at your age?’
But this is the difficult part. My mind does not feel old, even though it seems to have more holes in it than my favourite cheese, and when I see or read something that stirs my imagination, I am back in my prime, having a sneaky feeling that this is not all there is for me.
Some of the time I must admit I really don’t want any more, I am too tired to even consider the possibility. Then there are the other days– when you forget just how old and how stiff you are. That you find it difficult just going to the shops and back.
Days when you choose to ignore the sands of time slipping through your fingers and find yourself considering the most amazing possibilities.
Of course, this may be what happens as you approach old age. I don’t know, I have no experience or knowledge of it, not having done it before.
But if you can think, you can dream. And if you can dream, I believe you can do anything… at any age!
I have been struggling to finish the fifth book in my crime/mystery series. Although I am three quarters finished, the sneaky feeling that there might be something wrong just won’t go away.
It gets worse.
I have been waking up in the early hours, thinking about the story. This has been going on for weeks now and last night I dreamed about it. In the dream, my hero and my villain changed places for some reason.
I wanted to know about temporary and easily changeable hair colourants. None of this made any sense to me, all my book needed, I think, is a substantial edit to tighten up the plot. But it did get me thinking.
Could my choice of villain be all wrong? This could be why my hero was a bit lack lustre too. The whole premise could be askew. Anita and I had a brainstorming session to try to make sense of it all, and although we came up with some interesting ideas, they all involved major rewriting. No mean feat when you are 60.000 words in already.
I should be feeling devastated, and not sure why I’m not. The problem may or not be sorted, but whatever happens, it is doable. So that old post was right after all. If you can dream, you can do anything…
If life had been kind
That’s what I could be
Large and free
As it is, I sit here watching
my dreams go up in smoke
I could have been an eagle
Try caging me then
Now I wait for the cord
that binds us to snap
Letting loose my true self…
© Anita Dawes 2021
When I woke up this morning
I thought my hearing had been taken
Looking from my window
I could see no cars on the road
No people walking by
I knew I would miss them
I realised there was no bird song
I cannot be the only person left on the planet
I heard a voice say, you’re not
We wanted to show you
What it would be like to lose your hearing
This gives you a better understanding
Of this impediment
I thought, thank God they didn’t take my sight
We thought to spare you that
On this occasion, maybe
Another time we will visit that upon you
I said no thank you, I understand
Wishing for peace and quiet
Should come under
Be careful what you wish for
I remembered I would miss so many sounds
With that thought, came a flash of light
And all was well, all sound returned…
© Anita Dawes 2021
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! 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. Or amzn.to/2R9FtJM for Anita’s books, or amzn.to/2QIsgJb for Jaye’s.
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Hoping to see you again!