‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #36 #IARTG #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction #WritingCommunity

Welcome to the World of Suzanne Burke.


Now here’s one wish I would love granted,
Turn back time,
let me join the flower power that passed me by
Let me ride the love train,
until the stars appear to lead the way
Ban the bomb. If only?
For a moment, love around the world held us in its grip,
Before going south, the way of so many good ideas
That little VW was never wasted.
I feel some of those sweet souls that drove in it.
They left a lot of love and smiles behind them.
We need their like to drive by once more,
To light the world with love and laughter
Shield us from the crazy world we live in,
If only for a moment…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Lynn’s Tuesday Picture Prompt Week 32

Our Week 32 picture is pretty much what it shows. An old derelict piano in the snow. If I remember correctly, Lynn snapped the picture near the hamlet of Washago.

Glen is the host of LTPP

Summer months, we played outside.
That old time rock and roll
Our snow bleached piano, snow covered now.
Empty wooded seat waiting
A monument to a time gone by
When having fun cost nothing
When neighbours came carrying food
At the sound of the keys
We played into the night.
With fire bright, under a starlit sky
If you could hear that old piano now
The sound would be a sigh.
A wish blown on to the breeze.
For warm hands to play its keys once more…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#FlashFiction Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

January 14, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about dressing up. It can be a child or another character. Be playful or go where the prompt leads!

I never had the opportunity to dress up as a child
It never entered my head
I was far too busy, swimming, skating
Riding any bike I could borrow
I did have a cut-out book
Where I dressed a paper doll with different clothes
This, however, wore off too quick
I wonder now if it might have been
The lack of imagination, or up bringing
Parents need to understand a child
As my granddaughter does with
my little great grand daughter
I love to watch her run around
In nothing but a hat and wellies
Or her father’s big boots…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Others… #Poetry

Image by 근식 박 from Pixabay

The Others

I was meant to remember but I could not.
It felt as if a part of my mind had been cut away
Hidden from me
I search the dark space in between
Finding the thin veil that separates our world.
I see the missing part of my memory floating,
hands reaching, trying to take it for their own
I wondered if forgotten memories
lived here in this thin world
Those that live here, need us to forget
To rebuild their broken minds
From the free-floating forgetfulness of others…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Christmas Memories… #Poetry

Christmas Memories

Old Christmas memories come calling
When snow did lie all around
Snow angels, snowmen, the days delight
Children laughing, presents wrapped
Warm mince pies waiting
Custard stirring in time with Grandads snoring
Mum flapping while dad sharpens the turkey knife
Big brother calling, time to come in to help lay the table
Three of us rush the door together
Managing to squeeze through
Like the pop of a champagne cork flying across the room
We land in a giggling pile of legs and arms
Mother calling, I need help!
I know this isn’t true,
she likes to give us something to do
To feel a part of our Christmas cheer
God bless, Mum… she’s our Christmas angel…

© aniota dawes 2020

The Sunday Whirl ~ #Wordle 484 ~ #Poetry

The morning after the party
I found my father’s old tape
In an old cassette player
Alongside a box of tapes
It contained his black wall stories
Press play, his first story, entitled ‘The Child’
Through narrow dark streets
The child ran, her bare feet caked in mud
Something had taken her the wrong way
Her bare feet could hardly hold the ground
Eight-year-old girl, running for her life
Dark shadows behind her
In her tiny hand she held her mother’s key
She is tiring, whispering a prayer
For help, for hope
 She calls for her long dead mother
Where had the small blue light lead her?
Is it safety that awaits her?
To be continued…
I was hooked,
it felt good to hear my father’s voice…

© anita dawes 2020

Grandma’s Attic… ~ #Poetry

Image by Pixabay.com

Grandma’s Attic

I felt lucky when I inherited my grandmother’s house
I loved every minute spent there as a child,
each visit felt like a two-week holiday
My grandmother made life fun
I could feel her spirit in every room
Joe, my fiancé, loved it as much as I did.
He was the first to enter the attic
There we found paintings of every size
Dozens of them, from a long time ago, no signatures
 There were four paintings of my grandmother
Much younger than I had known her
Her eyes sparkled with the same mischief I remembered
Who was the artist?
I imagined a dark-haired Latin lover
someone Grandmother never spoke about
We discovered more behind a large painting
My grandmother in the embrace of a woman
Scant clothing between the two of them
Surprised, as she had been married to grandad
For fifty-five years. Who was this woman?
Were they lovers as the painting showed?
Joe said they were good enough to put in an exhibition
I’m sure Grandmother hid them here for a reason
Least of all from Grandfathers eyes.
I may never find the reason they were hidden for so long
My search goes on, for there are dozens
of boxes and suitcases to look through
What I find will be a story for another day…

© anita dawes 2020

The South Downs… ~ #Poetry

The South Downs ~ Image by Ron Porter from Pixabay

As I walked across the South Downs
The moon walked with me
Later, much later, when the world turned dark
Moonlight kissed my face.
I felt some part of me lost to the light
The old silver light, sliding across small hills
Through trees, painting as Salvador Dali had done
A melting landscape, alive with shadows dancing
The land kissed with old magic
I felt it against my skin
The touch of an old friend
Whispering, come walk a while longer
Let me take you back
To a time you loved the best…

The South Downs ~ Image by Jonathan Hall from Pixabay

©anitadawes 2020

#FlashFiction Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community ~ #Poetry

September 10: Flash Fiction Challenge

September 10, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes something heard on the radio. It can be from any station or era. What is heard? A song, announcement, ad? Think of how radio connects people and places.

I remember falling in love with a song
After hearing it coming from
my mum’s little Dansette radio
Indian Reservation
Years later I bought it on vinyl
Played it until it became paper-thin
The neighbours banging on the wall
Begging me to play something different
It’s strange how one song
Heard on a tiny radio
Can colour your life
To me the world suddenly
became wonky, off-kilter.
Why do people think they can take
what doesn’t belong to them
Changing Nations with their greed
Indian Reservation
remains one of my favourite songs
to this day
Played often…

©anitadawes 2020

Before… #Poetry


I have seen through these eyes before
Memories from a time
that do not match my own
Images in black and white that fade
With each passing day
Old photos hidden in a shoe box
Time stamped by age
No longer valued, faces there
Consigned to the past
Their names etched in stone
My life now on hold
My time spent taking notes of all that passes
One entry underlined on each page
I know that face, a young girl
I put her age at ten
Is it her life I am witnessing?
Or did I live it all before…

©anitadawes 2020