A Butterfly Remembered We fly, we dance, we live. We are fleeting, our beauty remembered. There is double power in reflection. If you see us hovering over water Make a wish, it will come true. Foolish thought, you’re thinking. How do you suppose I became this way? My wish was to fly. Here I am in blue splendour. Before my time is up, I will wish again To be as I was, with a life of a butterfly remembered… ©AnitaDawes2022
Anita Writes… #True Story
A Day Remembered
A few years ago now, Jaye and I decided to visit a zoo; it was more like a safari park without the need for a car. Jaye read that there would be a display by an orca, a black and white whale. The Ying and yang of the ocean, I call them.
When we arrived, we found that this would take place at 2 o clock that afternoon.
We walked around for a while. Jaye found a group of people listening to a man talking about one of her favourites. He was holding an arachnid, a huge orange and black spider. Of course, she wanted to be able to hold it right after he had said that it could shoot stuff from its black bulbous backside that would irritate the skin. Plus, it had a venomous bite.
Jaye tried to get me to take it from her hand. No chance, I thought. What if it is fed up being poked, prodded, and decided that I was the one to take a bite out of?
I watched her cooing over it like a fluffy white rabbit. Finally, I told her I had to find something with fewer legs. Walking around with 2 o clock in mind, we found one of my favourite animals. The sloth.
I thought cats were laid back and knew how to relax. This beautiful creature takes the biscuit. They live life in the slow lane, plus they only need to pee once a week. These days I could do with that skill.
A few paces along, we found the pandas lying on their backs as though sunbathing. We stood watching, and I swear they didn’t even blink.
I walked away, thinking they looked like stuffed toys and were not very entertaining. Whenever I see them on TV, they roll around and practice play fighting. Maybe they were tired.
Next, we found the giraffes, magnificent animals. I wouldn’t want to get on their bad side. I kept my distance while Jaye fed one, remembering when they get fed up being stared at, they spit at you. I didn’t fancy walking around for the rest of the day with gloop all over me.
Further along, we found a moth-eaten gorilla. Nothing like the one I fell in love with while visiting Regents Park Zoo with my husband. His name was Guy. People would throw their cigarettes at him; he would place it between his fingers and pretend to smoke it. After a while, he would turn to his audience and let out a stream of hot water, letting them know what he thought of the faces staring at him.
He sadly died while having a tooth removed. A short while later, I heard he had been stuffed and displayed in a glass cage at the History Museum. Something told me I had to say goodbye to the beautiful creature I had fallen in love with, and standing there, lost in his eyes, I was in a world that only he could explain.
Next, we came to the snake house, something else I am fond of. Skipping past the bats, not one of my favourites, I made my way outside.
We found the camels. Desert taxis, I call them. Snooty-looking devils that can spit for the fun of it.
It was time to make our way back to the small pool. The first three rows were full of people. Fools, I told myself. Steering Jaye to the sixth row, I had no intention of getting soaked when the whale dove in and out of the water.
When the display was over, the whale would hug the poolside, and we were encouraged to touch it. Its skin felt like a rubber tyre. Jaye was at the mouth end, her hand in its mouth, touching its tongue between a magnificent row of white teeth. God, what if she made it gag, and it snapped his mouth shut on her hand?
Before persuading her that it was almost time to go home, there was one more stop. I’d heard they had an elephant. King of the jungle in my book.
We found him alone on a small island, chained to the wall, swaying back and forth. I knew this meant he was very unhappy as they are pack animals and need company. Why was he chained to a wall by himself? I couldn’t stop my tears. I wanted to pull the chain from the wall and set him free. But I knew it would take more than that. He would need care for a long time if he were to recover. This is proof that all creatures should live in their own environment.
I drove home, compiling a letter of complaint in my head, hoping that someone would see the error of their ways and get him the help and companionship that he needed.
My day out remembered…
©AnitaDawes2022 All Rights Reserved
June BlogBattle: Scar ~ #Poetry
June 2022 Blog Battle
Ocean Deep The scar I carry is not visible so many years later it hurts like carrying a suitcase full of rocks It started with name calling Then my chair pulled away as I sat They threw things at me, homework got torn Things got worse, the older we grew too many things I try not to remember, The rocks on my back are enough Over the years, some of the rocks have fallen away Memory plays its part Yet the scar is deep, like the ocean dark I heard someone say, we adopt memories If that’s the case, I wish I could give them back To swim in a clear ocean It took too many years hiding Not until the day I met him, did I learn to smile Some of the rocks fell away from my back When children came along, the suitcase grew a great deal lighter I keep one rock on the kitchen window sill To remember every scar is not visible I pray that my children grow up scar free If not, I hope they learn to carry their wounds better than I did I look in the mirror at years past I see the rock that holds me to family Life is good… ©AnitaDawes2022
Nothing Disappears Entirely ~ Carrot Ranch Literary Community ~ #Poetry
March 28: Story Challenge in 99-words
Time fades, memory fades We are destined to fade into history Our names may be remembered if we are lucky To dust we return, part of the earth Does that mean we remain? Where is the light that we carried? Does it shine in some unseen dimension? Can we be called back? Would you want to return? It is believed many do return Often, their light can be remembered as one you knew long ago In the face of a new-born Something recognised Nothing disappears entirely Everything, it is said, leaves a trace mark In some unseen fashion… ©AnitaDawes2022
Love Remembered… #Poetry
Love remembered Something familiar disturbs my sleep, my thoughts Knowing is not enough to reveal all It feels old, far away out of reach Yet demanding, needing to be found Understood, remembered Music I don’t recognise steals part of my day Strange scent assails the air, faint, almost recognisable The way passing someone wearing too much perfume as if walking through a half-remembered fog Leaving sticky fingers on my memory Nails clawing the dark corners of my mind Where the knowing hides My dreams like the dark spaces I remember him, but sunlight washes it away All but his voice, my name whispered from his lips Wait for me, I will return This voice I know from the many lifetimes past Why must love be lost like ships passing Can destiny be tricked to let us love again…?
© Anita Dawes 2021
#Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge…
COLLEEN’S 2020 WEEKLY #TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 189, #POET’SCHOICE
with old sound
Choir voices ring
Silent days they fill
with long remembered song
From the black hills forgotten
Eagle feathers dance in circles
They sing their songs for children learning
Fathers voices echo in red brick walls…