The Road Ahead…

 

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

This life holds the key to your next

Everything you think, say, do

Draws the new blueprint

Thing is, there is no way of knowing

What you are drawing

Are you dragging the past?

Like old baggage?

If so, let it go

Think differently, in order

To find that yellow brick road

Where you meet the dreams

You wanted in the first place…

©AnitaDawes

Mind Meld… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

In my hand I hold a key

Three golden gates stand before me

Past present and future

The key does not open the first two

The third opened easy

My future rushes past me

Like a drowning man

I grab for a life raft

I am wrapped around a fallen log

The green river carries me past

A city of glass domes

A row of houses with stained glass windows

Golden skinned people walking the streets

Going about their daily business

This is not the future I had planned

The river moved me on

Past lush green pastures

Rainbow coloured horses running free

An image from a child’s colouring book

But not where I should be

When I wake in the hospital bed

Having been knocked from my bike

I am saddened by the loss of images

My mind had carried me through

My future now, was waiting

For a broken leg to mend

And a story to write…

©AnitaDawes

Returning Life…

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Returning Life

What would you do if you found a message

In the talcum powder, you spilt by the bathroom sink

I live alone, and unless I am walking in my sleep

I cannot explain how the words, ‘help me’ written in the powder

I should have cleaned before I went to bed

I didn’t know who, or how to help

All day, I kept thinking, what kind of help do they need?

Next night I left powder by the sink, hoping they would say more

Early sunlight dragged me from my bed

I read the message, ‘Help me, I am not complete…’

Looking at my reflection in the mirror

Watching it fade to nothing

The last thing I heard was myself screaming

‘I am here, don’t take me back.

 Let me stay, I almost made it…’

AAAAA

Loves Dreaming… #Poetry

 

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

Loves Dreaming

 

When the lights go out, whose arms hold you in sweet embrace?

Do they feel like your partners? Don’t turn until morning

It could be loves dark memory from repeated dreaming

Does his breath on the back of your neck set your heart racing?

Do you long to turn, touch his lips to your own waiting desire?

Whose face will you find on the pillow beside you?

Which one of your lovers will make you turn, reach out in ecstasy?

Who wins the racing beat of your heart?

AAAAA

Victoria Cornwall, writer and dreamer…

Today we welcome Victoria Cornwall to our blog, to talk about her dreams and new book, ‘The Thief’s Daughter.’ We would like to welcome other bloggers/writers to came and talk about their dreams too…

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My Dream by Victoria Cornwall

We all have dreams, or something we would like to do before we die. I have had a few in my time, although the reality of achieving “the dream” does not always meet with my expectation. I remember the time I wanted to learn to play the guitar. The experience was far harder than I expected, left me with calloused finger tips and short nails on one hand and long nails on the other. Needless to say, I didn’t keep it up and soon forgot all I had learnt. However, I now hold great respect for people who can play a musical instrument. They make it look easy, but in reality it requires dedication, motivation and a passion for the instrument. Another dream I had was to own a horse. I eventually got one, but he was very unpredictable and dangerous to ride. The phrase, “Be careful what you wish for” came to mind as I picked myself up after being thrown off.

Of course I have had dreams that did work out for me. I wanted to be a published author, have a nursing career and to get married and have children. They weren’t unusual aspirations, just normal ones that anyone might have. I think I must be quite cautious as you won’t hear me saying I want to climb Everest (too cold), run a marathon (too much training) or live in the wilderness (well maybe the odd day trip, but I would want to go back to a hotel at night).

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The dream I have now is to take a six month trip of a lifetime to visit all the places that have always captured my imagination. I would like to enter The Tomb of Tutankhamun, marvel at the Taj Mahal and walk around the Colosseum in Italy. I want to feel the water spray from the Niagara Falls, fly over the Grand Canyon and marvel at the Terracotta Army and Great Wall in China. I’d like to go on a safari trip, swim in the Great Barrier Reef and visit the ruins of Pompeii. And I would like it all arranged and paid for by someone else. It’s rather a big ask, I know, but hey, it’s my dream and maybe, just one day, I will achieve it, even if the reality is that I will have to pay for it myself!

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The Thief’s Daughter

Hide from the thief-taker, for if he finds you, he will take you away …

Eighteenth-century Cornwall is crippled by debt and poverty, while the gibbet casts a shadow of fear over the land. Yet, when night falls, free traders swarm onto the beaches and smuggling prospers.

Terrified by a thief-taker’s warning as a child, Jenna has resolved to be good. When her brother, Silas, asks for her help to pay his creditors, Jenna feels unable to refuse and finds herself entering the dangerous world of the smuggling trade.

Jack Penhale hunts down the smuggling gangs in revenge for his father’s death. Drawn to Jenna at a hiring fayre, they discover their lives are entangled. But as Jenna struggles to decide where her allegiances lie, the worlds of justice and crime collide, leading to danger and heartache for all concerned …

The Thief’s Daughter is published on all ebook platforms from 6th December.

Website: www.victoriacornwall.com

Twitter: @VickieCornwall

Facebook: www.facebook.com/victoriacornwall.author

Instagram: www.instagram.com/victoria_cornwallx

Pinterest: uk.pinterest.com/vickiecornwall

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Is There Any More?

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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?

But I quite like thinking, and all the things that trigger it off. Like books and pictures for instance. What I could do with is some method of retaining 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 some 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 that I really don’t want any more, I am too tired to even consider the possibility. But then there are the other days– 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!