#The Sunday Whirl ~Wordle 439




One slim chance to catch the wolf

The chill wind at my back

Nicely scratching the itch

A warm sun tendril illuminating

The ground beneath my feet

My home-made arrow flew

Missing the dark brown fur by inches

He lives to swagger through another day

I allow myself one shot, and that was it

Time up, I will set my cloak

same time tomorrow.

Walking home to the hoot of an owl

I knew tomorrows arrow

would miss its target

There’s no fun in taking

down such a beauty

After all, I am not one of

Robin Hoods merry men

My age is ten, the wolf

and I have grown together

I never stand downwind,

so he knows where I am

We are connected…

©anitadawes 2020

#The SundayWhirl ~ #Wordle 438


Some say it is best to cut your cloth

According to the times

I say it is no more than a disguise

To hide the buzz inside your head

To be different, fly your own flag

Fly in the face of convention

To ring the bell, shout for change

Be proud to walk as if you know

the new style you carry has deeper meaning

Let your words channel a new path for the young

Sign your name, tie it in a silken bow, wear it loose

Burn the old files, let the sweetness of sugar

Be the taste for life that guides the new you…

©anitadawes 2020

# The Sunday Whirl #Wordle 436



I have seen the darkness, a trap for mankind

They strip away what’s left of trust

No time to stand still to share a few words

Everything is done on an electric wave

Called the internet.

You don’t need to tell me

I’m old fashioned, behind the times

I know I must move on or be left behind

So I have a long list of new things to learn

I pray God grant my mind the strength to survive

Till then, I ask you wish me luck

As my old feet step into a new world

I play with alphabetical keys as if sitting at my piano…



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#Wordle 435 #Poetry



Stand, look about you

Let the glow of morning

Place a blush upon your cheeks

A twinkle in your eye

Hear the distant cheer from time gone by

Wrap yourself in giving

Open your heart

Blow the cobwebs from your mind

Wash your hair in morning dew

To score the shine, the curl

You wished for in childhood…



#The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 432 #Poetry



I hope to find the chain

that holds the dragon in disguise

His reign is not yet over

The middle hides the villain in shade

To my shame, I cannot take the shot

Divided by time, the love I rely on

I resign myself, only one can be saved

From this timeless place

I have no troops to rally

Only my thoughts, my feelings for one I love

I know not which disguise hides his face

The middle will not let me stay for too long

To choose, to make a mistake would end my life

The dragon will rise again

My love will not…


Image by Josch13 from Pixabay 

#Wordle ~ 426 #Poetry



How can I laugh as I watch my life?

My dreams spiral into a shallow grave

My mother warned I would rue the day I met him

A sham from the start, she’d said more times

Then I wanted to hear, often reminding me

that the signal couldn’t be clearer

A man polishing his own shoes

Dying the grey in his hair, checking his weight

She was quoting from her own life,

which was a perfect copy of my own

I have been living in a shell of my own making

How can I have been so dense

Not to notice the late nights, the lame excuses

Five minutes of feeling sorry for myself was enough

I went back to work on my first draft

For the craft fair and my latest book

Doesn’t sound exciting, but believe me,

there’s more going on here than fifty shades of Grey

Reading it over, I notice I have written a note to myself

To send an SOS to the universe

Please remind me to choose a better life

Next time around…

©anita dawes

#Wordle 422 #Poetry





I watched as my seven-year-old daughter carefully pressed

the dirt around the small plant her grandfather had given her

She spent hours choosing the right spot in our back garden

Job done, she sat, turning something over in her hands

Calling her for a glass of orange, I asked what she had found

She opened her hand and there lay a tiny bone

That looked like a child’s finger

I remembered the stories my grandmother had told

My father said they were nothing but lies

No more than the evil imaginings of an evil old woman

I cannot deny my grandmother often went into a daze

I had no desire to collude against the truth

To find the stories were more than smoke and mirrors

That a child had been buried where my daughter had been digging.

It would take a fair bit of grift to saw my way through the roots

Of the large oak tree that stood where my daughter had knelt

My husband agreed to help, rather than look foolish

Taking the bone to the police station

It turned out the bones we found belonged to my family

Which made me wonder about the other stories’ gran told

Turns out she wasn’t as daft as they would have me believe.

If she were here now, she would say she held the trump card

I told you that one day the bones would return…


#Wordle 418 #Poetry


Lies big or small impact our lives

Often leaving scars

Like water, they run deep

Our ignorance has polluted the ocean

Ruined the climate

No one can number greed in a crisis

Like fires escalating

Does it signal the end?



#Wordle 411… #Poetry





It’s 2.02 pm.

I am driving past St. Bonneville

My home, my place of work

The gravestones shimmer under moonlight

Like broken teeth.

An illuminated grimace.

I felt my heart give an extra beat

An uncomfortable feeling of being watched.

I pulled the car into the rectory

Gravel spitting

I would need to change my clothes

Check the font for water before morning.

I heard the broken hall clock chime at 3pm

Making the night feel decidedly unholy

If it weren’t for the beat of my heart

The silence would whistle in my ear

The way your blood does late at night

on your pillow, pulsing, a reminder of life.

About to turn in, I hear the soft moan

A groan of someone in pain.

There is no sign of an intruder

I check outside among the gravestones

The air was still, not a leaf stirred

As if someone held me by my shirt tail

I stood staring, not expecting to find my name

written there among those broken teeth.

I made my way back inside

Ready to wash and lie down.

Looking into the bathroom mirror

With no reflection looking back

I realise I am the intruder…

Anita Signature

#The Sunday Whirl ~ #Wordle 407

Wordle 407.png


Is it possible to be born without a soul?

To walk through life backwards

Vulnerable to the talk of careless lips

Whispers like a constant mantra

She will amount to nothing

To struggle with the stories told about her family

Bad seeds, the lot of them.

Life had been messy

Fuelled by the downward thoughts of others

With no exit in sight

Lisa’s life spiralled deeper into the mire

The road ahead paved with dark shadows

Whispering, this way.

Lisa’s damaged mind had no positive thought to lean on

No shoulder to lay her tears

No one to help her find new courage

A dark blue pebble picked from the kerb

Kicked a memory back to mind

Of old magic, healing waters at Glastonbury

Her mother had spoken of before leaving her alone

Lisa returned home with the pebble in her pocket

A seed, hope like a flower growing in her mind…