#Wordle 434 #Poetry

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A glittery surge of white laced wings

rose from the dirt around my feet

tiny angels born from the dust I walk on

my body still, feeling closer to God

soft lace wings kiss my cheek

I heard my heart cheer

felt the air churn around me

Trying to brush away the memory

Of my brief trip into a world

So few are privileged to see

I shuffle my feet, reluctant to walk away

The five barred gates ahead of me

Stood open. My stride lighter

I felt lifted…

©anitadawes

Carrot Ranch 99 words Challenge ~ #Poetry

December 12, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a gnome. It can be a garden gnome, a Christmas Joulutonttu, or a sauna protector. You can write magical realism, or feature contemporary gnome-like product.  Go where the prompt leads!

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My son brought home this grey gnome

Telling me he hoped it would bring me good luck

Of course, it never did

So he brought home a larger one

Maybe this on could do it

Again, nothing.

Got to give it to him, he tries!

So they ended up in the garden

Personally, I believe the gnomes

keep their magic for the Gods

as legend has it,

they forged golden rings for them

when they come together

any objective is achieved

would that I could get my hands on just one

that would be like sucking on Devils candy…

©anitadawes
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image by jaye marie

 

 

 

Earth… #Poetry

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Earth

Raindrops dancing, shimmering

Fairy lights on bare branches

Each drop a frozen pearl

A time capsule

That has roamed the Universe eternal

Returning to touch

each part of our growing world

to keep Earth in beauty

for us to walk upon…

©anitadawes

#Writephoto ~ Chill

Thursday photo prompt: Chill #writephoto

 

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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.

 

Snow

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…

©anitadawes

#Jaye’s Journal ~ Week 50

Jaye's Journal x12

 

I suppose it was inevitable that an element of Charles Dickens a Christmas Carol should have descended on our house. Anita is very fond of this story and always watches at least one version of it at this time of year, but I have a feeling it has something to do with it being a new century and not just a New Year that is due to start in approx. 19 days’ time.

I am always a little apprehensive at this time of year, wondering what Fate has in store for us all, and at the same time trying to imagine new ways to make it better than this one.

A new century is rather special and needs to be planned with a bit more care than usual, I think. We have been blogging now for nearly 7 years and we have made some amazing progress and friends in that time, but so far, the sale of our books hasn’t exactly improved our lifestyle.

We would love to increase the number of our subscribers /friends, write more books and actually sell some of them.

Although I am very proud of all I have learned, I know there is so much more I need to know out there. Already, the to-do list is growing, headed by getting rid of that dreadful subscription pop up and replacing it with a better sign up form, coupled with finding new ways to connect with more readers.

Our newsletters need improving, and our presence on some media sites could be better too.

And I also need to find the time to start enjoying my long-abandoned hobby of craftwork again, and if I can, I think this would make 2020 a special time for me…

 

What do you want to do differently in 2020?

 

We would love to hear from you…

 

Wrong Move!

 

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Image by Scott Webb from Pixabay

I had half an hour before the man came to install the new bannister rail, so I decided to nip to the market.

I crossed the road from my house, hardly reaching the pavement when one of those alien people came towards me, head down and holding a mobile phone where his face should be.

Now, as a rule, they see you coming from the corner of their eye, but not this one. I stepped to the right. So did he. I stepped to the left, he did the same, and we seemed to be doing a two-step.

Now I know this happens all the time with people with phones in their faces and is usually quick and you are on your way.

Not this one. He wouldn’t look up from the phone and by now I was getting annoyed, so I let him have both barrels. “Will you stand ******* still so I can get to where I’m going?”

He looked up with a smile on his face, and I guess he wasn’t expecting a woman of my age to have such a mouth on her. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and for a second I thought I might get a mouthful back.

To my surprise, he grabbed my arms and danced me around in a kind of waltz. When he stopped, I was facing my front door, showing me just how far I hadn’t got. He kissed my cheek and wished me a Merry Christmas, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.

For a woman of my age that was quite a moment, and I watched as he went on his way, phone in his face again, neatly sidestepping the people who came towards him.

I stood there with a stupid smile on my face, wondering if any of the neighbours had been watching. If any of them were, they probably thought I had lost my mind. I decided to wait for the bannister man, before taking a second shot at getting to the market.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t bump into any more strange men…

©anitadawes

#Keepitalive ~#Whatdoyousee #Poetry

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What do you see # 7

Week 7 in the tribute to the memory of our dear Hélène,  from Willow Poetry and the image this week is one she would have loved.

Image credit; Pinterest

No Return

Out fishing with my dad,

Mum would be waiting to cook our catch

I remember falling overboard

Then nothing until I woke

On this small boat

With a black hooded figure

That refused to answer my questions

I had read stories about the ferryman

I felt I shiver as the boat moved slow

Gracefully through the water

Not a sound. The silence beat at my eardrums

A maddening sound

If I must stay here too long

I’m sure I would lose my mind

I stood behind him

Facing the way we might have come in

To this blue cavern

That’s when I remembered the legend

I believed it to be one of dad’s tall tales

The blue hall of Odin he called it

The ferryman looks for Odin’s lost son

If this it, why am I here in the hall

Of the one-eyed God?

With his eight-legged horse

His spear that never misses its mark

What need would he have of me?

Not yet fourteen?

Maybe, they, whoever they might be

Will throw me back, like the small fish

That dad and I do.

Mum wouldn’t want to cook those, he’d say

I knew better. He wouldn’t take the small ones

He liked to give things a fighting chance

I could do with him beside me now

I hadn’t noticed the silence had been replaced

By voices whispering slowly,

I heard the words, ‘Go tell Odin he is here.’

I’m sure he knows; he is a God after all

He gave his eye for wisdom

And must know what’s going on

The ferryman stopped the boat

Beside white marble stairs

The mist disappeared

I felt my eyes pop out on stalks

If mum were here, she’d tell me not to stare

Men and women stood smiling

They seemed to know I was coming

Unexpected

It felt strange, as though I had left part of me behind

one I would never see again

The small gathering parted and there he stood,

spear in hand, gold cover over his left eye

‘At last my son, we have found you,

It’s time. I need you to stand beside me.’

That’s when I realised, I was never going home

I had become a demigod

Not bad for a fourteen-year-old kid from the sticks…

©anitadawes

 

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge

Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 157 #SynonymsOnly

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The magic of the season is all around us. Can you feel it?

 

My

upset

Granddaughter’s

Tears for freckles

Her face scrubbed red raw

What can I say to her?

A sign of beauty, not that

I didn’t believe it years ago

I needed to think of something quick

I told her they were the shadows of stars…

©anitadawes

Jaye’s Question…

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Image by Pexels from Pixabay

 

This morning Jaye asked me how I come up with the words and poems for some of the prompts we do, as she is convinced she couldn’t do this quite as well herself. I dispute this.

I am not good with questions, they normally have me running for the hills.

That inner part of me belongs to me, I don’t like to spill it.

One of my many muses prompted an answer.

First, I think of something.

It could be a word overheard on tv, something I have read, the words of a song.

Whatever it is, one of my muses will jump in, I assume because they liked the thoughts in my head at the time. Then we work hand in hand.

I know the difference when I try to write without one of them. It’s mostly rubbish.

Thank God for outside help, or I would be very bored.

It’s as simple as that…

©anitadawes

# Wordle 424 #Poetry

 

 

Hailstones hit my window

The sound of tiny hands knocking

Asking, seeking entry

Bright diamonds litter my windowsill

The dark grounds outside

Filling my mind with an old story

My life hidden in the words

I open the door, choke on every falling sin

I feel my heart jump

My body must try to fly from this place

My eyes are drawn towards a line of fire

I recognise the deep hunger in my soul

To find the end of the story

To reveal my fate…

©anitadawes