Ancient Love… Revisited… #Poetry

Image by David Mark from Pixabay
Sadness holds all
Grey eyes see the life below
Blowing time on those it finds
Dancing smiling faces
With life, they glow
Silver moon stands high above
The mountain screams of ancient love
Time to let them know
That love of a different kind
Is love after all...

©AnitaDawes 2020

Anita needs a rest, so I found one of my favourites from 2020…

#Writephoto ~ Antique ~ #Poetry

#WRITEPHOTO – Antique

#WRITEPHOTO – Antique
Antique – Image by KL Caley

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a collection of tables, chairs, lamps, baskets, teddies and other objects in quite a busy space.

How do we mark the passing of time?
Is it memory alone?
Do the visual prompts take us back?
Bring the past to life
At 75, am I considered an antique?
I certainly feel like one some days
With so many antique thoughts popping in mind
Wanting to live alongside me
Is it a reminder that the time I have left is too short?
So many empty chairs that were once loved
Put in pride of place
So many ghosts that have now gone
Do we still feel them when we sit in an antique chair?
Looking through the window
At once cherished items
I wonder, as I walk home carrying a small red vase
How will it speak to me?

© Anita Dawes 2022

WWW.Wednesday ~ What are you Reading this Week?

This should be a peaceful, happy time.

Three days until Christmas, and all I should be thinking of, is the timing of defrosting the turkey and the making of mince pies. Unfortunately, there is an awful lot more on our plate right now, and has been for a while. (More about that later, when we make it to the other side!)

Unable to concentrate on anything, especially the WIP, I reached for a book to stop all those unwanted thoughts from swimming around in my head. The book I chose, The Last Dragon in London, by our good friend Widdershins, may have saved my sanity. From the very first page, I felt the magic on the pages travel up my arms and into my heart. Somehow, I had been made welcome and felt at home, as if I had been there before and already knew these people.

The mince pies will be cooked, and the turkey defrosted, but my mind will be inside this book…

Book Description

In the second decade of the Twentieth Century, Mildred Norman, Mildy to her friends, not many of whom are left alive, is broken in body and spirit after a long hard war.
An old friend suggests that she might like, as a bit of a distraction, to spend some time doing a bit of a ‘grand tour’ of all the places named ‘London’ throughout the world.
What begins as a whim, ends with a discovery that challenges everything she believes is possible.
Arriving in the last ‘London’, on her list, a tiny village tucked away in a remote valley, she meets up with a few of the locals and shenanigans ensue.
With the help of a child hunting mythical beasts, the child’s grandmother, and a cast of quirky villagers, Mildy shows how dangerous a stout woman with a lethal arsenal in her pockets can be.
She uncovers a plot to alter the course of history, begun so long ago that no records of the conspirators remain, except for one place, the place she now calls home.
To protect those she has come to love from certain destruction at the hands of a cruel and loathsome cabal, she must battle threats both near and far, and confront the mysterious force guiding it all.
And then, of course, there’s the question of dragons …

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 532 ~ #Poetry

I ignore the sign
Rush towards the crossroads
Trembling, I stand
Unable to choose
Thoughts dip in and out
I let them pass, no use
How can I pick the right road?
Toss a coin, heads you lose
I feel the flow of blood
Rush to my head
I linger too long
Chasing old dreams
I drift toward the right-hand path
My thoughts drifting after me
They fray like old cotton on a slow draft
My path chosen, I let my legs
Take me where they will…

©AnitaDawes2021