Inside my mind… #Poetry



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Inside my mind

In my imagination

Like Ali, I am the greatest

I fly with eagles

Sale the river on the back of a black swan

Cross the Amazon in a single bound

Build the pyramids single handed

Rediscover the lost library of Alexander

I know all the secrets in the Vatican

I read the minds of our great inventors

This one was heavy going

They do not think the way we do

Discovering new worlds for humanity to live on

Hoping this time not to mess it up

I have had ten minutes all to myself

Back to work now

Tea to cook, family home

Washing to be done

Homework to be taken care of

I wonder what I will get up to tomorrow…

©Anita Dawes

#Blog Battle: Flower #Poetry



Our BlogBattle Entry


Flowers, Nature’s smile

Not everyone loves them

Especially when they grow

 In all the wrong places.

On walls, cracks in pavements

Mostly considered weeds

Not put there by the hand of man

Trying to put Nature in a box.

They cling to the tiniest piece of dust

They survive, no matter the tidy minds

Who try to suppress them.

I have a small bouquet

Of pink and white daisies

Growing on my front door mat.

As I place my key in the front door

I enter with a smile.

I cannot tell you how many

People have said get rid

For they spread like wildfire

I cannot do that.

As I sit drinking coffee

I wonder if that small bouquet

Of happiness might have been left

After a fairy wedding

However they came to be there

I am grateful.

I believe it is best to live and let live

Who can determine another’s true path?

I wonder if placing your opinion on others

Changes their course of destiny…



January 2019 Blog Battle

Our word this month is:


You can start writing at any time, but make sure you post your story by the 30th of the month.

Once you’ve posted your story to your blog, put a link to it in the comments section, and we’ll add your story to the Battle Stories Line-up post.

Make sure to check back and read some of the stories of your fellow battlers. Leave comments to encourage these writers, and share each other’s stories!

The battler who is chosen in a given month will have the opportunity to be interviewed!

Basic Rules:

The Prompt Word will be given the First Tuesday of Every Month.

Post your story by the 30th of the Same Month.


  1. 1000 words max (give or take a few)
  2. fictional tale (or true if you really want)
  3. Any genre that fits within PG-13 (or less) Content – let’s keep this family friendly!
  4. Your story must contain the randomly chosen word(s) and/or be centered around the word meaning in a way that shows it is clearly related.
  5. Go for the entertainment value!
  6. Put a link back to your #BlogBattle Short Story in the comments section
  7. Please tweet and otherwise share your battler buddies’ stories across social media.
    1. Use the hashtag #BlogBattle when tweeting all the stories so we can cross-share.
  8. Have fun!

#Wordle 376






Sweet memories hidden from the light never grow, they do not age.

Not so sweet memories creep out from behind the cupboards, shake off the dust, to hurt you. They talk to you, reminding you of the pain and hurt that should have died long ago.

Journey through your mind can be a painful time.

Better to let your thoughts fly, sing a song that brings back happy thoughts.

Don’t let your mind yearn.  Put down that invisible stick you beat yourself with.

Don’t miss the promising times ahead, or strand your mind in yesterdays.

Don’t let your life become an island, let the great machine inside your head pitch new thoughts for the road ahead.



Wordle 368




Wordle 368.jpg


I was sitting in my back garden. Twice this week I had promised to cut the grass, but my mind was away with the fairies. Wishing I were young again, back on dad’s old farm.

Being midsummer, I wasn’t expecting a freak wind to be pulling at my clothes, tugging at my mind and urging me to find something new. As usual, I sat there and did nothing, telling myself I was too old for new adventures.

How many times had I said no to friends when they asked me to join them on some weekend trip? Even after all this time, I wondered what I might have missed.

Rising from my favourite deck chair, I dragged the mower out of the shed and started to cut the grass, knowing Jack would be pleased when he came home from his weekend away. Later that night, I put on the old wrap my mother had knitted, took a glass of wine and went out to the garden. I sat waiting for the sky to darken.

I watched as the new moon made an appearance, then the first star. The darker it became, the more stars I could see. I was picking out some of the constellations that I knew when I noticed a shooting star. I had forgotten that tonight was the time to see the Perseid meteor shower.

I lay there letting these falling stars take me on an adventure, places my physical body would never let me go. That night I travelled to exotic lands that my feet would never touch. Later, lying alone in our bed, I decided I was not too old to visit new places. Rome, the pyramids, even the Taj Mahal was on my list. I fell asleep thinking how surprised Jack would be when I told him. He had asked me so many times to go somewhere nice, that it would make a change from walking away on his own twice a month.

Jack never made it home that weekend. Someone hit his car, sending it off the road. All the things I wanted to tell him stuck like a knife in my heart. I had left it too late.

A year later I booked my first trip away to Rome, the first place Jack had wanted to take me. It was everything he said it would be and more, and as I felt his hand in mine, the knife in my heart fell away…

Anita Dawes 2018

#Wordle 365




Wordle 365.jpg


No longer can I turn my face away

Nor close my ears to the howls of the lost souls

Clawing their way out of hell.

I hear them in my dreams

So many who found no forgiveness

Nor the mysteries of those who wake in the night

Speaking in tongues.

No longer can I hide

As I walk through the green hills

The mist never so thick as today.

Watching the clouds roll across the midday sky

I wonder about the mean things hidden from my mind.

My day rolls on

I sit on an old fallen tree stump

Contemplating where I should go

What direction should I take?

I sit a while longer

Wishing I had brought my smokes with me

I promised mum I would give them up

As I could no longer bear the mean stare of passers-by

Whenever I light one up

They make me feel like a leper

Unclean, unwanted. Like so many others,

Whose habits have been judged unbecoming by others.

My walk home was slow

My mind filled with thoughts.

Who am I, if I cannot help others, nor learn to pray?

Not sure that praying works

I would be better off looking for the yellow brick road

To find the wisdom I have lost…

#Wordle 364

We just love doing these… find more at





The dusty street where Sarah lived was being washed clean by today’s rain.

She had chosen this village, this street, having been told she would find the peace and quiet she had been longing for.

As a shy yet brilliant writer, the small house seemed the same, shy, forgotten. A perfect fit. Sarah thought she could work well there. Thoughts rippled through her mind, leading her to a new idea.

Being shy from an early age had left Sarah on the outside and alone for most of her life. She had heard people whisper about her, mistaking her shyness for snobbery. She wished she could blend in the way other people did. How could she tell them of her longing to be like other people, to laugh, to go out dancing. She had been asked in the past, but always refused.

The lilting sound of rain on the window added to the thoughts already growing in her mind. She would yield to them, write them in her new novel.

As she was about to move from the window to start working, she caught sight from the corner of her eye, the brilliant speckled breast of a thrush. And Toby, her neighbour’s cat about to give chase.

To Sarah, this was the life outside her window. She picked up her pen and waited for the new words to begin, to tell people all about the shy young woman behind the rain-spattered window…

Jaye’s Journal ~25-31 July




I listened to the thunder approaching as I caught up with writing the next chapter of my WIP. It sounded slightly ominous, but in a half-hearted way, if you know what I mean. We seem to get a lot of this half-hearted weather down here in Hampshire. They say it has something to do with being so close to the South Downs. It kind of messes with the wind currents or something.

At this stage, there was no way of knowing if it the storm would ever reach us, or veer off somewhere else. In the end, we had a few more rumbles and that was it.

On to the next disappointment. The eclipse.

Wall to wall cloud made sure we didn’t see anything, either the moon or the eclipse. We had been watching the moon all week as it slowly became full, only to have nothing at all to see on the night in question. We were in good company, for no one else in the UK saw it either, but the awful sticky heat had gone, and I could really concentrate on my writing. Word count has gone up by nearly 5000 words this week!

They promised rain, which would be more than welcome, as I could hear the garden screaming for moisture all way inside my office.

But when it did rain, it wasn’t the deluge they promised, just a quick half-hearted shower, but better than nothing, I suppose.

After a damp and slightly chilly weekend, I had the opportunity to play truant, and I didn’t hesitate. It was like the Prisoner of Zenda escaping, as I ran and jumped in the car, ready for the off. An afternoon walking around The New Forest? What’s not to like?

There will be lots of pictures and post to follow!

 A Surprise and Unwelcome Visitor

During the heatwave, we had an unwanted disturbance late one night.

We had not long been in bed and couldn’t sleep as the heat was stifling. We heard a commotion downstairs and thought we were being burgled. We were about to investigate when we heard bottles clinking. A thirsty burglar? What was going on?

The culprit turned out to be Merlin, our beloved black and white cat. He tried to look innocent, but we knew what was going on. Somewhere in our house was a very small but unwelcome visitor. After crawling around on my hands and knees, looking in all his favourite places, I managed to track it down to the dining room, where Merlin had the tiny mouse cornered under the table. I managed to grab it with an old tea towel and take it out to the garden.

It was while I was out there, I decided it was the perfect place to sit and enjoy a coffee, even though it was two in the morning. I wasn’t having any luck sleeping anyway…

#The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle Stories #362

Look what we found the other day!

Another fabulous writing exercise to get those grey cells moving!

The Sunday Whirl posts a wordle picture with a selection of words for you to write a story, poem or whatever you like, including all or most of them…

Don’t forget to link your efforts back to The Sunday Whirl…






Wordle Story #362


They say time will pass and heal all wounds…

My heart has not been told of this; it swims in a lake of pain.

Your picture ever before my eyes, no place for me to travel,

No sign leading the way out.

I broke the gift of love you gave me when I let you go…

#Jaye’s Journal (or how to Juggle a Couch!)


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Most weeks in our house are usually a mishmash of incidents, some good and a few of the other kind. But whatever happens there is never a dull moment around here!

This past week has excelled itself, hurtling from one mini-disaster to another. At one point, I contemplated staying in bed, just to break the cycle, but as I am the nosiest person for miles, I couldn’t bear to think of anything happening without me. Seeing as how I was born with a sword in one hand and cleaning mop in the other, I could usually cope with anything!

It all started to go wrong when we spotted a fantastic bargain in our local charity shop, a two-seater couch in black leather. It was in perfect condition and a price that would n’t bring our bank account to its knees. So without thinking things through, we bought it, to be delivered the following day.

But what to do with the dilapidated broken down couch in our living room?

The local council have a collection service, so all we had to do was get it out of the house. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? In case you were wondering, it definitely wasn’t.

We are both in our 70’s and not the fittest people on the block, but we were determined. We would do this, even if it meant dragging the couch out of the house in pieces. A not so small nightmare later, two broken and bad-tempered women sat on the old couch in the front garden, swearing never again. We didn’t understand why it had been so difficult, it was a two-seater after all. We clearly remembered the day years before when it was first delivered, so either the couch had grown, or the house had shrunk.

The next day, tempers and difficulty forgot, the new couch was delivered and peace reigned once more. How I wish the story ended there.

At this point in the story, I can blame Anita for what happened next. She had seen (and fallen in love with) another couch in the charity shop, which she assured me, would be far more comfortable than our old three seater. You couldn’t make up what happened next.

To cut a long and painful story short, we bought the three seater and managed to drag the old one out. Slightly easier this time as it could be dismantled. Shame it was so bloody heavy though!

Shortly after the new three-seater was delivered, it became obvious that the blessed thing wasn’t comfortable at all, and had to go. By this time we were exhausted,  unhappy and tempers were flaring. Again!

After three days of juggling large, heavy and unresponsive pieces of furniture, I have banned the word ‘couch’ from ever being spoken of in my hearing again. The furniture we have will just have to last, for there is no way I am going to lift anything heavier than the kettle for the foreseeable future!