The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 518 ~ #Poetry

I watch the yellow leaves of autumn falling
On coming winter, carpets the land with new colour
My phone rings, down the line I hear the bad news
Late last night our pastor took a new journey
One not planned. His wheels hit a patch of oil
Sending his car over the bridge
Our small village gathered
Out tears mingled with the flowers we held
Candlelight flickered like dancing stars
We could feel our pastor reaching out
Touching the living, one last time
With his soft-spoken words…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 516 ~ #Poetry

The wind knows my name
My secret is out there
My sin can be seen shimmering
In every rain drop
Grain grows, touched by my passing
My sin lives on,
do I corrupt those close by?
Does their conduct change?
Are stories written about
That particular rainfall
Sudden changes have been reported
Miles away
Small villages have trouble with their young
The only thing they have in common
Is my name, heard on the wind?
Arthur made me do it…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 515 ~ #Poetry

Small children with gaily painted masks
Storm the sweet shop, the blinds are down
They climb over the counter
The floor is strewn with sweets
Their goody bags full to bursting
An enormous surge of wind
Blows a sandstorm through town
I stood with my mouth open, dry
Watching the children rush from the shop
To be picked up by a gust of wind
They now look like coloured balloons
That someone has let go of
I send my thoughts skyward
Hoping they will land safely…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 514 ~ Poetry

I watch the years fade
The heart feel less with each passing moment
All too often, it feels like a fall from grace
The air still, no crackle of excitement
To light the passing hours
There are no weddings, no one to marry.
The mind,
like a broken car that only works in reverse
Feels like a stranger inside my head
The frame on the wall,
The avenue I walked holding your hand
No more than a dark cloud in memory.
Time takes its toll, but not on the eyes
They often sparkle when a white cloud passes
With sweet memory of you
If only I had the power to scry
I would find you, join you as soon as I can…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 513 ~ #Poetry

Pine needles carpet my river walk
Swallows play on summer thermals
I hear the odd whoop of joy
Food is plentiful
Life is simple on the wing
Beams of light shimmer
Invisible hands play the harp strings
I feel humble,
almost as delicate as tissue paper
I touch the trunk of a chestnut tree
Slow my breath before taking the bend
That leads me back to the crowd
The people who anchor my life…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 511 ~ #Poetry

I dress to rekindle old magic
The kind where lifespans run into the hundreds
I need a new future
Where sky spirits dance behind the clouds
Sparks fly, rising like fireworks
My ruby ring flashes far into the distance
Where legendary moments marked history
Lives were changed, magic ruled
The world seems to be covered
in a soft blanket of dullness
Life has become slow
I am looking for that spontaneous moment
That sets you on a new path
Where you punch the air, scream Eureka!
The Holy Grail is in sight…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 510 ~ #Poetry

I watch the train recede
The distance swallowing it like an old film
Fading into the next scene
A dream being played out
Yours, or the film makers, you cannot tell
Frame by frame the space before your eyes
Fills with images you would rather not see
The old shed holds the secret
Again, you must win
The small gold chain you wear
Has become a lead weight
You let your mind lead the way
As you lean against the warm wood of the old shed
you refrain from pulling the gold chain from your neck,
as you touch it, you feel protected
Let the game begin…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 509 ~ #Poetry

In the shadow of the eternal flame, she stood
Her gaze turned toward the east.
I felt something in my soul unravelling
My heart pounding
Soft spray fell from her hair
I wondered, had she been fully formed
From some unseen spring
Do I risk disturbing her?
Would I turn to stone should she look upon me?
Why would I think such a thing?
I am sure one as beautiful as she
Would have saved my soul
from completely unravelling.
When she finally looked at me
I knew language would be no barrier
It is the face of a goddess I see
And I am undone…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 508 ~ #Poetry

The border has been closed against the poor
The fire raged, echoing the sound of angry thoughts
A child’s toy broken, rusting in the dirt-filled streets
Card-carrying members of the human race
Felt themselves safe under the darkening sky
The rising surprise in their eyes, clear as water
The city has fallen,
the days of effervescent joy, long gone
It is bad form trying to walk out
on a Sunday afternoon in your finery
A slap in the face for those
who never had the chance
to dress in anything other than rags
Will life return to normal?

© Anita Dawes 2021