Hollow dreams and the loss of words

Through candle lit nights
moon came calling to her soul
whispering secrets,
stories untold.
As gentle winds blew
through the cage she had known
as home for too many years
she could no longer remember
a time when it wasn’t
this way.
Pouring ink from veins of plastic
shavings of pencils strewn
on wooden floors
in the darkness she let rivers flow
drop by drop onto the parchment
that had become her friend.

She came in the light
of a hot August summer sun,
the thief of magic
the liar of sincerity
and one by one lifting
the lined soul pages stacked,
slipped quietly away
back to her world of darkness.
She had not known the worth
of the dreams she held rolled in her hand
letting go in the wind
losing the precious gift
to the fields beyond.

The shell lay hollow and empty
no more dreams to give
no more words to pen,
life moved on as life always did
as the strands upon her head
turned grey like the rain
and the moments that had lived
now lay a whispered memory
and she is empty
yet she knows that someday
the words will return
to be gifted to the young and pure,
kept safe from the hands
of the thief of the soul,
caged in her memory
the words only she can see,
the stories only she can tell.

After reading a beautiful piece of poetry on stories, it brought back memories to me of my mother. When I was child, she would stay up late at night and write out all the wonderful stories she created in her mind for me to read. One day the neighbor girl stole them from me and said she didn’t know where they went to. I don’t remember my mother ever writing the stories down after that. She spun such magic and still does, just not putting pen to paper. Stories that will fade away except in a child’s memory.

5 day photo/story challenge
Laine from over at From Midnight To Dawnlight challenged me to this and I gladly accepted. Here is one of her lovely pieces from when she did the challenge. Stop in and say Hi.
http://frommidnighttodawnlight.com/2015/09/22/memoir-ghost-towers/

Guidelines:
Post a picture each day for five consecutive days. Attach a story to accompany
*can be fiction / non-fiction
*poem / short paragraph
*each day nominate another blogger

Today I nominate a new poetry writing blogger who found me: Gwenice over at the chaser of dreams. Stop in and say hello and explore her lovely poetry.
https://thechaserofdreams.wordpress.com/2015/09/20/numb/ and I also extend an open invitation to all the amazing writers who follow this blog.

*Sporadic posting is alright if you are unable to post each day. There is no obligation to accept this challenge, and I will understand completely if you choose not to take part.

18 thoughts on “Hollow dreams and the loss of words

  1. Pingback: The Words Of Our Sword | The Chaser of Dreams

  2. Pingback: Free, But Not Really | The Chaser of Dreams

  3. Thank you so much…toying with some new format writing styles….and after ignoring a thought I had, realized it was too late to implement which left me feeling bad. Always trust the hunches….peace and blessings and a hearty thank you๐Ÿ˜Š Kim

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  4. She still has them tucked away in her mind and still tells them to my niece and nephews…..not totally lost…but yes, it was sad at the time. Thanks, Kim ๐Ÿ˜Š

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  5. I can see how that would sting too….ouch….especially an award well earned. How sad. Children can be strange little creatures, but then again so can us adults too I suppose ๐Ÿ™‚ Kind of like keeping up with the Jones’s if you can’t beat ’em, steal it and pretend it’s yours ๐Ÿ™‚ have an amazing day, Peace, Kim

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  6. That brings back a memory of me bringing a school award to friends house to show them because I thought they were good friends and would be happy as others were. I left it there accidentally and never saw it again. It was so shocking and hurtful. Had to forgive but never forgot. Light and love, Shona

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  7. Ah, the dreaded computer crash…..that sinking feeling as you knew you had perhaps hit all the right words, how it flows so smooth like butter running in the summer sun and then boom….the pit of your stomach feeling…argh…worse the Charlie Brown with Lucy and the football…..I am reading them in order, but when I finish and reread I will then open it and the universe will select what I need to hear most. I love that, when the selection is made “for you” …have an amazing day and kids who read always seem to find the best imagination created by the fun they found in pages…but then again, we are all kids, right? Peace and blessings my friend, Kim

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  8. Hi Kim,

    You have just jarred my memory of those recycle paper hand-outs we used to have in early elementary school from which we could order books. The ones my dad always had mixed feelings about my enthusiasm over… not in the budget, but my kid likes to read…! I agree with you on holding a book in your hand. Though I’ve had the experience your mother had, it has only ever been in miniature– the loss of hours of creative work, not through theft but through a computer crashing, or a stupid move made when overly fatigued. Just those moments alone are debilitating, so I tried to imagine on a grander scale, and it hurt. It hurt real bad…

    Thank you so much again for you thoughts on the book. I think you will like the last one if you have made it this far, though perhaps you’ve been reading them out of order… Your feedback is so encouraging and I’m grateful for it, Kim.

    Blessings
    Michael

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  9. Thank you nominating me for this challenge, Kim. ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m delighted that my poem inspired this post. Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up this challenge at the moment as I need to study for my A Level exams, which will be starting in less than a month’s time. >_< Nevertheless, I will try to do so in December when I’m free from my exams. ๐Ÿ˜€

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  10. Hi Michael,
    Perhaps it was like photos and such on the web back in the day, once it’s out there, anyone uses without permission. when I was little, newspapers and libraries were the only reading material, I don’t remember a Barnes and noble as a kid, but we got a colored paper with books listed in it that we could order through the school, paying for it at discount but still quite pricy when we really had nothing…and the day those books came in, the excitement palpable in the air and the feel of that book in your hand. The fresh new book smell that wasn’t a hand me down tattered copy or a used book. We had a used book store in town but it was just an old gentlemen I think who piled them everywhere. Nothing really for kids. To this day I like to hold a book in my hand. I have one more poem of yours to read…savoring it for this weekend. I will write you a glowing review. Although I don’t think any words I can say come anywhere close to the Impressiveness of your writing. ๐Ÿ˜ŠI let my dad read one and he was amazed. Your comment seemed in a way as if something like this had happened in your life before. I pray not, but no fears, mom still makes up stories for my niece and she will tell her children someday so all is not lost๐Ÿ˜Š
    Peace and blessings,
    And glad you met Gwenice.๐Ÿ˜Š
    Have an amazing day my friend, Kim

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  11. Hi Kim,

    I can kind of relate to your mother’s reaction. Keeping her work in her heart where it couldn’t be taken again… Words for her daughter given, but not recorded.. secrets for the two of you. I can only imagine how difficult it would be to have years of your heart’s work taken…

    Thanks for the intro to Gwenice…

    Peace
    Michael

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  12. She still makes up stories, but no longer jots them down. She is so very creative….the gene pool of angst ridden poets I suppose, but we know where the magic can be found. Thanks Kat๐Ÿ’œ

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  13. It’s a sad story. I’m so sorry that she never tried to write again. But, at least, we know from whom you got your talent for spinning the magic and writing the beautiful stories. ๐Ÿ™‚

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  14. Thanks Russ, I was so excited to have them and then the evil girl child stole them away…they weren’t a nice family and perhaps in hindsight they didn’t have much to begin with. Maybe she wanted to hold something pure and special…for that I forgive. I’m glad you enjoyed๐Ÿ˜Š Kim

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