MLMM ~ Photo Challenge #368 ~ #Hands ~ #Poetry

Hands are made to touch, to feel sensation
Hot, cold, silk, satin, warm skin on a cold night
To give us music, to soothe another’s sorrow
To hold a new borne baby’s head, feel that tiny life
Remembering hands were not always so kind
Not so long ago they were in the dark ages
Now, hands we never get to see, grow food for us
Make the clothes on our backs
Shoes to stop the heat of the day
Burning through our soles
Best of all, are the hands that love you the most…

© Anita Dawes 2021

MLMM ~ Wordle #243

I struggle with the amount of elbows
That poke me in the back, the side
I wish someone could save me from public transport
Last week, I almost found myself on the floor
With the rush of elbows
When did they become weapons?
It is most disconcerting being beaten up
By a well-dressed warrior
Someone else overheard my remark
I had not meant to speak out loud
The daily struggle is too much
I need a new direction in life
Heaven knows what I can do
The corrosion in my life
Help me to follow a better tune
Checking my savings account
My tiny flat is paid for
So, I can see I have enough for about a year
Can I write a number one bestseller in that time?
Don’t ask, do…

© Anita Dawes 2021

MLMM ~ Wordle #242 and Thursday Prompt Host

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

I believe in the other side
Whether you can see it or not
It is always there, like dust motes
That float, no matter
how many times you clean the house?
As you walk through the room
You see them,
caught in a light beam from the window.
You never feel them touch your cheek
Unlike the remote seduction
That had me lip biting, dizzy with feelings
I cannot define, my breath shallow
Body tremble, shattering sound
The supply of pleasure beyond words
Behind the mask, a guttural sound
A voice full of gravel
Shattering all illusion
I am awake now…

© Anita Dawes 2021

MLMM ~ Wordle #241

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

The dishonourable so and so
Standing on the sidewalk
With that cocky look on his face
So sure of his self
Believing most folk will forget his misdeeds.
I wear the crystal he gave me.
He was someone I loved.
The chains he wove have fallen from me.
I am no longer cramped, hiding in corners.
Awareness floods my being.
I have no need to search my mind,
Looking for ways to blame myself.
His lofty platitudes fall on the ground behind me,
Where they vanish like fallen leaves
Picked up by the wind…

© Anita Dawes 2021

MLMM ~ Photo Challenge #365

Photo by Veerendra on Pexels.com

Dancing in the dark, beneath the new moon
I spot a tiny distant star
First star at night, I make my wish
Let life never end
Let my life go on forever
Let moonlight enter each new life
Let the mystery of moonlight live on
Teaching magic in subtle ways
Let me forever dance beneath
This mysterious light…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#MLMM ~ Wordle #240

The shape of wind
Looked like a greasy bacon sandwich
I heard the scream of excitement
As the float passed us on new easy wheels
That stayed on this time
Looking over the heads of the crowd
I could see the return
of the shirtless man in apartment 3B
I have been told that nothing good
Comes of his beautiful body on display
through his window for all to see
Don’t let his smile fool you
He breaks hearts like others collect stamps
There is value in stamps, you get nothing
For a broken heart…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#MLMM Photo Challenge #364

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Mahdie Farhadkiaei

Stuck between the tick and the tock
The Joker plays his final hand.
It was bound to happen, wedged between the pack
The two cards merge under the Jokers spoken word
Lovers from the beginning,
Nothing would have kept them apart.
The Joker, thinking he has done them wrong
To mess up the pack, to pay the many hands back
For leaving him out of the games they play
He has done those broken souls a favour,
Bringing them together
A spell once woven, is rarely broken when love is true.
Turn the card over
to read the final words the Joker spoke to seal the deal.
Off with their heads!

© Anita Dawes 2021

Shades of Paliarchi?

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie


Wordle #239

Morning did nothing to shake the cobwebs from last night’s dream.
They had decided to exhume my mother-in-law.
The piquant reminder followed me around.
My wife seemed to be in with the fallout,
cooking crepes for breakfast. Mother’s favourite.
Friday, late afternoon, I skipped work.
Sat in the park, beneath the cherry blossoms
I watched that age-old chase, boys after girls.
Wishing I could shave off a few years.
The masculine in me, feeling insecure.
She who always has to be obeyed has cast a large shadow.
I am in awe of my wife’s ability to be nothing like her late mother.
I must admit, I may have painted her darker than necessary…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#MLMM ~ #Sunday Writing Prompt:

Image from pixabay.com

Floating free, surrounded by light,
I found a tiny planet that drew me in.
I walked for miles before finding a living being.
Tiny, like the planet. No more than four foot tall.
Asking where I could find a bed for the night,
He pointed down the road to a small yellow building.
I’m not what you call tall, five foot nine.
I hoped the inside might be larger.
Bending to enter the door, I could see how small everything was.
The lady behind the desk slapped her hand over her mouth
to stifle a scream. “You cannot stay here!”
Backing out of the door, I sat on the pavement,
wondering how I could return home.
The kindness of strangers fed me, they sat with me.
“You’re stuck with us for a while, the next big energy wave
Won’t be back for the next two years.
“That’s your ride back home. In the meantime,
we can build you a place of your own.
“In return, you can work in the fields for us.”

I was beginning to feel like Gulliver.
Later in the evening, would I hear, “Twelve o clock and all’s well?”
If I am dreaming, don’t wake me. Let me stay a while…

© Anita Dawes 2021

#MLMM ~ #Photo Challenge

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

The land melting, sliding over
Like a waterfall
A small mill paddling backwards
Trying to maintain a grip on steady land
Like so many of us who have paddled backwards
Trying to retrieve our steps
To right some wrong, in order to do better.
When paddling forward
It seems to me, the world is paddling backwards
Soon it will go full cycle
With any luck, we will meet ourselves
We can then paddle forwards
Avoiding waterfalls…

© Anita Dawes 2021