October 7, 2021, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes whispers. It can be beautiful or creepy and any genre. Where are the whispers, who are they from, and what do they say if they say anything at all.
Whispers... Death closed its hand Beneath the whispering autumn leaves The old head stones tell of loved ones I wonder, are some souls on fire? Do they all lie at rest Do they whisper of dancing under the sun? Kissing under moonlight Do they come back Whispering in my brain Of life beyond these cold stones As yet, none have whispered Of angels, golden harps or seeing Christ Before you think me mad I don’t hear disembodied voices all the time There is one that stays with me A female voice, telling me life goes on Right there, beside you… © Anita Dawes 2021
#TANKA TUESDAY WEEKLY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 222 #EKPHRASTIC #PHOTOPROMPT
This challenge explores Ekphrastic writing inspired by visual art and/or photographs. Anita Dawes from last month’s challenge has provided the photo for this month’s challenge:
Dead things are planted
Dare you enter the bus
Hear soft whispers from dead lips
Spend a night in the broken shed
Where soul eaters wait, shrouded in black
All things swallowed by time, under hot sun…
© Anita Dawes 2021
I am lifted by gentle hands.
Carried to the attic.
There, they turn spiteful,
throwing me into the air
I wait for my body to hit
the dark attic floor.
No thump came to wake me.
I am suspended.
A puppet with no strings
I feel hands stroke my hair.
I see time moving.
Outside the small window
A whispered voice close to my ear
Not all things go bump in the night.
I do not panic, believing I will wake soon.
Better than thinking I am a plaything
For an invisible force…
© Anita Dawes 2021
Photo Challenge #348
The forest floor found her lying still
Naked, seemingly new-born
Gently covering her with soft green foliage
The forest spirits gathered
Their whispers carried to the high-top trees
To the low born mushrooms
Birds held their trill
Breeze stopped between the leaves
Their sigh held in abeyance
The word spread throughout the forest
She has come, our new Queen
We must be ready when she wakes
Birds now sing the news
Each leaf swayed in applause
The forest floor ran with life
The breeze had the last word
God save our queen…
© anita dawes 2021
There are Gods that have no light
They live in darkness
Dwell on sorrow, feed on fear
They drop nightmares like rain
We never feel them enter our minds
We never see the dark shadow
that falls across our soul
Nor hear the dark composer of our thoughts
When fear calls, we stand to attention
Dark whispers scratch the mind
Push us forward when we should turn away
How hard is it, to just say no…?
© anita dawes 2020