#Writephoto ~ Deeper ~ #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Deeper #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a sheer drop from old stone… a bridge, perhaps, or the battlements of a castle… there is no way to tell… Below is deep, dark water, swirling, fringed by autumnal trees…

Don’t stand and stare,
The dark water may drag you deeper
to a place you do not want to go
Throw your coin, make a wish, do not linger.
The autumn tree to your right,
Never moves into summer.
If you want to see another sun filled day,
Move on swiftly.
This stretch of dark water has a reputation
For calling sad souls to let go of life
To enter the world below
Those that have slipped below the water,
Lie in wait, lonely, needing new heartache
To feed their dark world
Let your wish be, to bless the water.
Send those sad souls on their way…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#Writephoto ~ Guarded ~ #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Guarded #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a pathway through the bracken of the moors towards a distant horizon crowned by a hill. The path is flanked by a huge rock…

∼ ∼ ∼ ∼ ∼

You don’t walk across the moors.
So much as wear them,
like your favourite Sloppy Joe’s
an old armchair that’s a perfect fit.
where the horizon is always in the distance
beckoning you on,
the bracken a familiar carpet
your mind remembers.
huge rocks, boulders echo
their secrets as you pass.
here, the land is guarded.
by an outpouring of love,
food for the soul
should you walk this path
at a certain time of the morning
find that drag mark on the dust.
the arrow headed stone
like a pointing finger.
would you dare to stand on it?
hear the secrets of the universe?

© Anita Dawes 2021

#Writephoto ~ Returning ~ #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Returning #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a solitary figure on a rocky ledge, holding a staff and silhouetted against a pale sky.

I stand still under dusky twilight sky
That in-between moment
The breeze is soft, slow
There is magic in the air.
I feel the rocks beneath my boots
I cannot remember how long I have been walking.
I have lost track of the part or me that made me tick.
This walk, I hope,
will help me find the part that we call life, hope.
This will not be my last journey.
As I wander, I talk to myself.
It helps to smooth the sharp edges of my mind.
It prevents me from disappearing.
I wonder where she is now, my better half.
She has left footprints across each heart she touched.
A badge of friendship that time cannot erase.
When death comes softly, hold up your hand
against the moisture it leaves on the air
Let it not touch your lips to speak of ill begotten fate.
Life is a giant puzzle, some pieces slip away
Yet the beauty of time spent together remains…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Throwback Thursday #Writephoto ~ Wistful #Poetry

Some of us are reposting previous #Writephoto posts to show our support for Sue Vincent, who is not well enough to continue…

Thursday photo prompt: Wistful #writephoto

wistful
Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows the early morning mists rising over an empty moorland scene beneath a soft pink sky.

  

Soft Morning Mist

Stand still awhile on this empty moorland

Let the silence wash away yesterday

Feel the pull, as if walking backwards

To an old time, an old world

Beneath the soft pink blush of sunrise

Morning mist, the sweet damp kiss of angels

Do you remember when bliss was all you knew?

When you lived in my house…

©anitadawes 2020

#WritephotoTribute ~ Murmur #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Murmur #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows dark clouds and bare trees against a fiery sunset, with a murmration of starlings creating a cloud of their own.

Red sky, flames from a hidden fire

Illuminates the dark barren land

Black clouds tendrils reaching

Searching the darkness for something lost

The sheer weight of it pushing me down

Slowing my footsteps

I longed for the murmur of waves along the shore

Where I paddled as a child

Somehow, I have been dropped into this wasteland

An unwanted morsel of humanity

No sign of life save for the starlings

Swaying, painting their patterns across the dark grey

Their sky murmur, a last dance before sleep

Reminding me of many a last dance

Played out over time

Do those lost lovers touch in sweet refrain?

Does our world echo a continuous murmur of love?

Do we feed from this almost silent murmur?

Like hungry children

I think it must be so, for we are still here

Swaying, dancing our own murmur in silence…

©Anita Dawes

This post is our tribute to Sue Vincent, for all the lovely prompts she has given us with #Writephoto over the years. To cheer her up on these dark days… GET WELL SOON, Sue…

#Writephoto ~ Serenity ~ #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Serenity #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a blue-lit landscape, land and calm water mirroring the cloudy, silver-lit sky.

Was it like this in the beginning?
When God said let there be light
And the light was good
So smooth, so full of wonder
As above so below
Let the magic keep flowing
Let the world be bathed
In beauty, peace, and harmony
Let each living thing rejoice
In its own way
Let serenity be the air
That we breathe…

©anitadawes 2020

Anita should be coming home from the hospital today… Yay!

#Writephoto ~ Tokens

Thursday photo prompt: Tokens #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a feather, an autumn leaf and two bright red berries or beads, left amongst the stones and plants by a stone that looks like a head with jewelled eyes…

There’s a kind of déjà vu
a message going on here
First Jaye calls me into the office
to see one of our followers
Beautiful pictures of an eagle
Who while flying above his head?
dropped a flight feather

Image by Tofino Photography. WordPress.com

Next day, Jaye noticed a feather
Had dropped into one of her bonsai trees
During the high wind we were having
To me, it looked like an arrow or a dart

Image by Jaye Marie

Now, this prompt from Sue, making it the third time
Which is said to be a meaningful coincidence
I don’t understand the message here
Or what it might mean
But I digress. Back to the third feather
It could mean all sorts
Icarus could have flown over
Mercury too, may have lost a feather from his boot
This seems to be a different meaning
The head with the dark eyes looks like an owl
Yet behind that, I see a tiny face in the leaves
Whose tiny turned down mouth
and dark sad eyes, gives him a perplexed look
Could be the message is one of sadness
The summer is over, berries, autumn leaves have fallen
his sadness is not for the loss of summer
I think the meaning more dire, a warning
The kind that most of us ignore,
brush aside as superstition
This kind of thing drives me mad
I need to know, to understand
There is so much I never find the answer to
I guess I’m not the only one…

©anitadawes 2020

#Writephoto ~ Crescent ~ #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Crescent #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows the dark silhouette of a tree against a cloudy sky. The horizon is lit by the gold of dawn, while a crescent moon hangs above the tree.

The threat of darkness
Snapped away by the light of dawn
The gold blush kissing the black shadow below
In between the pale horizon sits waiting
For the crescent moon to swell with magic
While the dark trees stand silent
All but a few, hear the whisper
Of wind through their leaves
A hint of things yet to come
Would you want to hear
the kind of future
they whisper about?

©anitadawes 2020

#Writephoto ~ Clouded ~ #poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Clouded #writephoto

This week’s prompt ~ Clouded

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a landscape of green moorland and hills, with a pool of water near rocks in the foreground and a heavy bank of white cloud rolling in and masking the horizon.

Most of us want to know
What goes on behind closed doors
For me, even more so.
Behind a low hanging cloud
What does it hide?
My mind goes into overdrive
Like Icarus, flying too close to the sun
I must know,
I must wipe the mist from the mirror
Leaving the moor behind me.
The cool water, a blessing to any traveller
Rest your weary back against ancient rocks
That could no doubt tell a tale
If we had ears to hear.
I could wait for that cloud to lift
Or continue walking
I walk on into the cloud
Soft, cool, slightly damp
Stepping straight on to Gulliver’s Island
I am transported to Lilliput
Walking beside Gulliver
Watching the little fellow with his lantern
Telling the sleeping townsfolk
That it was twelve o clock and all’s well…

©anitadawes 2020

ABOUT US: For those new to our website and blog, we would like to thank you for visiting. Between us, we write in several different genres, so there should be something for everyone to enjoy. Anita cannot abide computers, so I (Jaye) do all the technical (oily rag) stuff! Our books tend to be varied, from horror to supernatural romance and coming of age, and mystery thrillers.  We try to keep our website interesting with guest posts, bloggers, poetry, and reviews for all the books we read. Our books are shown in the right-hand sidebar and clicking on the images should take you straight to Amazon. If you enjoyed your visit, we would love you to leave a comment… Hoping to see you again!

#Writephoto ~ Fantasy ~ #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Fantasy #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a green landscape of rolling hills and an island in a bay. In the foreground, pastel-painted buildings and a tall clock tower are surrounded by summer trees.

Flipping through the pages
Of someone’s imagination is one thing
Here, you get to walk through fantasy
made real. You can become more
than the number of your parts
The colours, the cool Italian marble
Dazzle the senses
Transporting you to parts of your mind
That suddenly come alive
Come visit, stay awhile
Marvel at the tall clock tower
Standing sentinel, guarding the bay
Does the island, the green hills
Contain more mystery?
Time to go find out
Before I go, I’d like to say
I am a man, not a number…

©anitadawes 2020