#Writephoto ~ Glow

Thursday photo prompt: Glow #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com


Meet me one last time to watch the sunrise

Before the blood of the Gods is taken

By the light of day

Their eyes blind to the beauty

Their own fury creates

They trust so little in love

Feuds erupt when it turns in on them

A beautiful maid becomes a reed

Another sent to Hades

Heroes born from forced labour

Where would we be without Hercules, Achilles

Helen and the many hearts she broke

So many stories born

where the sun breaks through

Where would we be without the dawn

And our imagination

I for one, would lose all inspiration

May the battle of the Gods

Continue creating…



#Writephoto ~ Web #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Web #writephoto



Image by scvincent.com


Inside the broken castle walls

An ancient suit of armour stands empty

Her silken thread weaving, time passing

Long lost fairy tales hidden beneath her touch

Great battles lose their meaning

When our lack of immortality

Can clearly be seen

By a tiny arachnid, doing what she does best

Laying a blanket of silk across all she sees

With no heed to what lies beneath

She cares not for time passing

Break her web, find a treasure waiting.




#Writephoto ~ Balefire

Thursday photo prompt: Balefire #writephoto


Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a hooded figure in the darkness, silhouetted against flames that echo its shape. The figure holds something in its hand that may, perhaps, be a wand…


A young girl beating the signal flame into being

The sound hollow, echoes of broken time returning

She stands like a shadow before the white flame

Drumstick held in hand, conjuring old energy

Searching for answers to yesterday’s dreams

Why the white flame holds her own image?

Light and dark from another time

Memories drum-like distant thunder

Inside her mind

A sound telling her of power only she can find

That one true thought will set it free…



#Writephoto ~ Calling

Thursday photo prompt: Calling #writephoto



Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows  a snowstorm with the silhouette of a stag watching between two trees.





Snow had been forecast, but Janet had promised to visit old Mrs Robson, to make sure she was warm enough and had enough to eat.

On her way home, the first flakes of snow were drifting down, gradually covering the road with a thin white blanket that softly crunched under her feet.

She wondered if it was a good idea to take the shortcut across the fields, and stood and looked around, weighing up the risk of the snow getting worse.

The snow was thicker now, reducing the visibility, but if she took the shortcut, she would be home and safe before it got any worse.

Approaching the edge of the field, a large stag appeared and stood as if barring her way between the trees. He stood motionless, a look of determination in his eyes and the tilt of his head.

Not wanting to be chased, Janet turned away and looked for another way to cross the field.

Further along the road was another opening, but the stag was there before her. It was becoming obvious that he didn’t want her to cross the field. Or was he trying to stop her from going home?

The snow was now falling in a thick curtain and it had turned bitterly cold. It probably would be safer to stay on the road, but Mrs Robson’s cottage was nearer than her house, so the decision made, she trudged along in the blinding snow. Before long, she heard someone breathing on the road behind her. She stopped and turned her head, barely making out who was following her. The stag stared back at her; his breath visible in the freezing air.

She increased her speed, almost running to the cottage.

The front door was wide open, snow already piling up inside but there was no sign of Mrs Robson. The stag made his way around the cottage to the back garden, and Janet followed him. They found Mrs Robson sitting on the ground, her leg at an angle underneath her. She looked like a pixie, covered in snow.

She smiled in welcome, but not at Janet…




#Writephoto ~ Stillness #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Stillness #writephoto



image by scvincent.com

The image shows the dark silhouette of a cliff and against a calm sea and a sun-gold horizon.





Rock, sea and sky, what more could I ask for

The stillness, oh, the stillness

Where birds dare not fly, the air undisturbed

My heart slows in memory of a time unspoken

The quickening begins as I step into the salt sea

My mind invaded with primitive thoughts

An old-time movie, how long has it played there

How many minds have changed, standing here?

Did they notice time playing before their eyes?

Am I the only fool to stand wrapped in stillness?

My mind damaged by no sound entering

No help to rearrange my thoughts

What do I take back from this strange place?

Will it be renewed stillness of mind to carry me

through the remainder of my life…


#Writephoto ~ Copper

Thursday photo prompt: Copper #writephoto




Image by scvincent.com


The old copper road

As children we were told that strange things happened

Along the old copper road during the autumn equinox.

I have walked it many times as a child

An old dust road grubbied my white socks

Mother knew I had disobeyed

She would say I was lucky to have returned.

I remembered thinking grown-ups

were very strange beings

I wondered if they could be aliens.

For me, it was a peaceful place to walk

Copper leaves shining under a weak sun

Soft breeze lifting the turning leaves

Reminding me of flamingo dancers, how the dresses

would lift, swirl with each stamp of their feet

I remember the stories of people disappearing

Of stargates, time warps, alternate realities

Grabbing people to populate new dimensions.

As a mother I wondered if I would let

my little ones walk there alone

Suddenly my feet decided to walk it

Something I hadn’t done since childhood

Mother’s house felt the same, yet now it belongs to me

What is it about the grown-up mind

that changes everything?

I could feel the warning in my body to be careful.

I hoped I would make it back to read the note

I left on my dining room table

“You are lucky to have returned…”

©anita dawes

#Writephoto ~ Harbinger

Thursday photo prompt: Harbinger #writephoto


Image by scvincent.com     



My friend, with his dark black feathers

and royal blue and white flash of colour

Visits my garden most weeks.

He particularly likes my apple tree to perch in

He stays a good while, watching me

washing up at my kitchen window.

One for sorrow, what nonsense

His visit means good news is on the way

I hoped it would be the same today

And mark the visit on my calendar.

Within three days good news will arrive.

Sure enough on the second day after his visit

my daughter rang me to say I was about to become

a grandmother for the first time.

What great news heralded

by my fine feathered friend…?


#Writephoto ~ Murmur #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Murmur #writephoto



Image by scvincent.com


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

#Writephoto ~ Reaching #Poetry

Due to our wi fi malfunction, we are a little late posting our entry for Sue Vincents #Writephoto challenge.

Better late  than never, I say!


Thursday photo prompt: Reaching #writephoto


Image by scvincent.com


I fly over land and sea

Finding all I am meant to see

Astral body glowing bright

Alongside birds who fly at night

I see tall dark trees in winters light

Reaching for each other to say goodnight

Spring returns with summers oncoming light

New warmth returning bright green leaves

We sleep now beneath soft grey clouds

Curtains drawn against the dying of the light

A strip of blue as a reminder of days return

With a slow spinning world

We root our lives upon…


#Writephoto ~ Poise #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Poised #writephoto

Featured Image -- 54363

The image shows a leaf-strewn flight of stone-cut steps descending into a hole in the ground. Poised to ascend…or descend… is the dark silhouette of a strange figure…

Old Ones


An ancient creature whose face is hidden

Behind the mouth of a cave

The sound of footsteps

Is his home about to be invaded?

If captured, he would become a specimen

In a zoo.

It’s life, but not as he knows it

Nor wants it to be

He cannot run or blend in with the garden

He lives in

A secret place he believed would shield him

Keep him safe

Footsteps too near now, his heart pounding

Is it men with a gun as he had seen years ago?

When he had been left as a baby to fend for himself

Too small to be seen

Not this time, it is a female of his own kind

He cared not where she came from

His loneliness is over

Now he will block the inner opening with boulders

So, they will be free, safe to live their own way.

©Anita Dawes