Seek, and you will find?

Image by Albrecht Fietz from Pixabay 

I was looking for inspiration this morning. Something, anything to get my tired old brain working properly again.

Image by Dave Boardman from Pixabay 

This beautiful face reminds me of a ghost from 60 years ago, a treasured childhood companion.

She later returned as my muse when I needed a friend, to help me through a time of confusion and worry. Seeing this picture brought back so many different memories, and I wondered if this could be a message to help me now. I can already feel her calming presence starting to work its magic.

I have been trying to stay calm and optimistic, but it has been so hard. Maybe she will stay with me for a while until I am back on track again…

A Magical Moment…

Keeping the magical theme going today, I thought I would share a magical moment we had yesterday…

Autumn is in full swing, and the wind is having a lot of fun with the leaves outside, especially the ones that come from my bonsai…

This one was floating in mid-air…

We stood and watched for ages!

Hidden in Secrets… #Poetry

Image by Patrizio from Pixabay 
Magic runs to the beat of its own drum
Over an era, hidden in secrets
Now I have my hands on the parchment
Study, follow the clues, take the first step
To find a slice of my own magic
Every step takes me to the most amazing places
Remembering tastes, smells with every new continent
Quick lightning fills the air
     with a scent from an unknown place
Under dark Indian skies, I find my first clue
East across the river, find the cave
Sleeping there, the Buddha wakes
To tell of steps you have yet to take,
    if earthly treasures you seek…


Eugi’s Weekly Prompt ~ Opalescence ~ #Poetry

Image by rihaij from Pixabay

The wonder of magic, of water
A rainbow world in each bubble
Suspended opalescence
A space to build your dreams on
I place the picture on my wall
So it’s the last thing I look at before I sleep
Dreams come thick and fast
I’m inside a translucent bubble
The world outside transformed
Elementals live there
Happy inside their soft light
I wonder how long my bubble will last
Before I am back in my own world…


Your Weekly Prompt –Oplalescence – June 28, 2022

Unseen Hands… #Poetry

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

Magic made by unseen hands
After years of darkness
Nephilim walking out of hiding
Daring to seek the light
After decades of darkness, the
Light burns, burning his mind
Over time, his tears leave scorch marks
Rivers of red run dry
Inside his chest, his heart beats too fast
All that was meant 
never came to pass…


The Pompey Bookshop… #shortstory #Fiction

The Pompey Bookshop   

“I love the smell of this old place, don’t you, Fred?”

“Yer, it smells of death, all that paper and the old trees whispering. You found anything good to read yet?”

“Not so far. Quiet, here comes one now. I wonder what she’s looking for. Watch out, she’s coming your way, to the esoteric stuff. She’s looking for a little magic…”

“Let’s give her some then, drop a book on her.”

“I can’t do that, Fred. It might hurt her, besides, she’s troubled. Can’t you see the sadness in her eyes? Can’t you feel it?”

“Yer, yer. I thought we could have a bit of fun for a change.”

“Trouble with you Fred, you are a good ghost. You don’t hear too much about good spooks these days. Maybe we can help her out. One of these old trees might be of use. This one for instance, How to Find your Own Bliss.”

“Go ahead then Jim. Poke it out, your best at that, but don’t be too heavy-handed. Don’t want it dropping on her head, remember?”

Jim did his best and the book moved slowly, sticking out about two inches, but the woman didn’t notice it had moved.

“Damn…” Jim said.

“Now what?”

“If I push any harder, it’s going to fall…”

“Let me help, I’ll play with her hair to make her look up. You push.”

Alice touched the top of her head. Must be her nerves, she thought, it felt like fingers playing with her hair.

Jim pushed, and the book fell at her feet. Picking it up, Alice read the blurb on the back and decided to take it. She continued her search, her fingers brushing against the spines, the pages inside rippling at her touch.

“You can stop playing with her hair now, Fred. You’re messing with the pages. They’re getting all excited, thinking they might be read. They don’t know how lucky they are. Luck, maybe that’s what she needs. After all, that’s what this Bookshop is all about, helping people find what they need.”

“Good idea. No pushing this time. Look, she’s still stroking the spines. She’s coming up to the one with the green spine, that one will make her hand tingle…”

“Which one are you on about, Fred?”

“That one, Luck Made Easy. It’s a big book, so will need both of us.”

“Ready? Now…”

 Alice snatched her hand away from the book, her hand stinging.

“Now see what you’ve done. You’ve come on too strong…”

 “She might not be brave enough to touch it again. She must believe in stuff like this, or she wouldn’t be here. Make it glow, Fred!”

“It’s almost closing time; Mr Pompey will be looking to see if the shop’s empty before lights out.”

The book had moved out of line just a bit and was glowing. Alice found some courage and pulled it out. She almost ran to the till.

“You’re our last customer of the day, Miss. Have a good evening.”

Alice’s thank you was barely a whisper as she made her way to the door.

“Good job done there, Fred…”

“Let’s hope so, Jim. I reckon she‘ll find just what she needs between them old leaves. “

 “Night, Fred…”

“See you come morning. Jim.”

The Bookshop didn’t sleep. The leaves between all the book covers were too busy whispering their stories to each other all night…


The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle #542 ~ #Poetry

Hidden noise we do not hear
Yet sinks inside our head
Like the secret noise inside a shell
We take no notice of the sound
Of bare feet on vinyl
We lead strange lives
Hand in hand with superstition
Burying shoes and witches bottles
Under the threshold 
to ward off evil and protect the house
Amidst the strange and wonderful
Like Nero, we play our invisible fiddle
Letting the world spin around us…


#Mindlovemisery’s Wordle 274 ~ #Poetry

My fingertips to write
To adlib, make magic on the page
The read back was no more
than a bunch of garble
Stop press, this woman is a fool
I jiggle my appointments
to manage my time better
I have no wish to waste it
To see it perish, like old apples in a bowl
Off the cuff, I decide that fresh air was needed
Stopping in the middle of the road
Remembering the parish church
have a monthly boot sale
There, I picked up a wonderful fleece
Would it prove true the legend?

© AnitaDawes 2022