The clock strikes the midnight hour
Birds sing in this snow filled empty space
Soon, smiling faces shall play there
For the next hour,
ghosts hold sway over this space
Laughing, remembering their days in the sun
Now snow, cold bites at their white fingers
Their laughter louder,
knocking snow from the leaves
Wind sweeps through the trees
Joining in their merriment
Hear, tiny voices can be heard
A whisper, will you remember us…
© anita dawes 2021
#Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 206 #SynonymsOnly
WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!
This week, Kerfe Roig selected the words:
“mingle and drift“
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On virgin snow
Floating in the air
United with childhood
Free to remember days gone
I am in an old-time free fall
Time returning long lost memories
All given while I blend with virgin snow…
© anita dawes 2020
Image credit: Pixabay- Alexas Photos
( For visually challenged reader, the image shows for tiny snow men like figures in different poses. All looking very cute!)
I do not know where these
four snow gnomes came from
They appeared overnight in my garden
Snow has been forecast,
yet not one flake has fallen
Did they drop fully formed from a cloud?
A cosmic April joke.
Cheeky, merry looking,
I half expect them to dance around my garden
Venturing out to touch them,
to confirm what my eyes see.
I could swear the first one laughed
As if my touch tickled
As I touched each in turn, I had a feeling
They were made of something alive
More than frozen water
Where could they have come from?
Will they melt, leaving a puddle on my lawn?
Somehow, I think not
There is magic in the air…
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a landscape wearing a light dusting of snow. From the hill, where skeletal heather and brown grasses pierce the snow, a valley spreads out below, lit by the rays of a pale sun.
Light shining from a thousand different worlds
That our eyes cannot see while we stand
on hard snow frosted ground.
The heart says yes, they are there. One day soon,
lucky heather may give me a glimpse
Of the world hidden within the light
For now, I wonder at the beauty
The majesty of such a sight
that my eyes can see. As I go to walk away,
looking back at my empty footprints
Could someone be following me?
I see the light shift, as though blown by the wind
A dancing curtain of light, teasing my mind
Strange images, stranger sounds
Haunt my journey home…
Image by Pixabay.com
I remember the thick blanket of snow
When I was eight years old
I found a stray dog on my way home from school
I carried him home, thinking my mother
would let me keep him
I sat him on the doorstep,
rushed to tell her of the little friend I had found
Her answer was no, but she did however,
let me take a bowl of lentil soup for him
Surprised to see him still there
I say in the cold wishing I was an adult
Then he would be inside with me in the warm
It broke my heart to finally shut the front door on him
And I never did see him again…