Beyond dreams

The mind slips into that quiet place,

the place right before surfacing from sleep

as cool breezes blow through cracks in the window

heralding the journey’s end

as eyes slowly fight to reach the top

and the mind tries so very hard to recall

the shape and colors of the midnight dream

as it slips away like a solemn cloud

into a waiting sky.

She waits in these places often

like a soul on a journey that has no end

she slips into the shadows to watch

as the swirling atmosphere takes her somewhere far

and the only one left to hear her sigh

is the coming moon on the horizon.

She knows sweet Luna well,

guiding her since birth she trusts the words

and images she sees

when she returns each time she knows

it won’t be the last.

A thousand days have left her spent

and ten thousand more still remain

as she walks over mountains of memories

and sits beside the waters in stillness,

knowing the ripples will come and go,

messages passed in hasty moments

but on her mind it always rests,

the place that brings her comfort

the heart of the dream

where she is blessed.

Little joys

You will relax within the confines

a world of a thousand bubbles

luxury scents fill the air as you close your eyes,

hands smoothing and scratching

those hard to reach spots

feeling the smooth silk of soap cascading

over your beautiful lithe frame.

You breathe in and out slowly

as the warmth of the water pools gently over,

eyes stare lovingly? as I create a bubbled goddess

out of dirty scratchy fur

and piling mountains of slippery goodness,

wash the black specks from your beautiful body.

You wait patiently as I minister

to your every whim and paw

no cares in the world as the clock winds down

and I fold you in a dry bath sheet fresh

from the laundry stack,

rubbing and smoothing your glistening coat,

you stretch out in joy

and shake in a wild abandon

flecks of water coat the walls

as you lean on me I feel the water

on my happy hour t-shirt

I release you to the couch

where you begin to roll about

and I take on the second chore of cleaning

what had been a pristine white tub,

now filled with black sand and the remnants of

a few dead carcasses of Chi fleas.

Ah the simple joys of bath time with Chi. I didn’t attempt pictures as it’s tough to do with soapy wet hands, but as we see the issues with the sand fleas and her allergies to their bites, a warm soapy bath goes a long way, at least for a few hours, till she goes outside to bask in the sun, and once more roll in the yard sand, defeating my hard work. Perhaps I think she enjoys these baths, gotta give a mom a purpose now, you know?

 

Grace

We had partaken of the graces given

mysteries of life entwined between invisible thoughts,

curving round in circles to return

through ghost-like apparition I feel the words,

the senses gather speed and drift beneath the universe I see above

to find so far away

the heart of the lonely poet.

Where is he when he snips and clips

gathering pieces to put together in random

tandem side by each to make beauty

the works of masters hands reach far

and although the touch is only felt on the mind

the horses still move round and round

to end back where they began

waiting for the next ride to start,

young and old at heart smiles

wanting that one last thrill

before the lights turn down for the night

and the music stops before its begun

humming the tune in your head,

the long lost masters never forgotten

and to feel that within,

the words

the tunes

the music of a lifetime played

snapshots in sepia make me cry

for time escapes no one

and the horses only wait frozen

in shuttered buildings safe

until the next season finds us in line,

we remember and we know

these moments that keep seeping into our lives

as pleasant reminders of simple grace

and timeless memories of a child

who becomes a man

riding round on paper mache dreams

porcelain painted love

cantering on a sunlit beach

as he waits for the others to catch up

he lives to dream another day.

 

Moonbeam levels-Prince (lyrics)

“He said he’ll never keep diaries 2 learn from his mistakes
Instead he’ll just repeat all the good things that he’s done
Fight 4 perfect love until it’s perfect love he makes
When he’s happy then his battle will be won (It’s never 2 late) “

Tripping days

We move through silent like a ghost

Pondering the majestic sights

The sounds of cosmic journey tales

Sung to our ears like lullabies

As we pierce our thoughts

With new found joy.

Inspired worlds beyond our reach

We gather stores for coming weeks

And words set forth through space and time,

Tripping days go passing by.

What brings us to the edge of bliss

With midnight and a moonlit kiss

we fly higher on a moments grace

Quite thankful for the clouds of lace

That let the light from guiding stars

Remind us all how small we are

So far away and yet so close

These magic thoughts we have the most,

For what is light that passes through

And love sent forth for me and you

From far and wide we wait to know

Through the trip of days we finally go.

Pure essence

Embracing the essence of a day

pure in thought and simplicity

I wander my mind in search of places

emerald cities of the light-hearted kind.

People move about around me

eyes forward searching and here I hold

the place in my memories bank

solitude of beauty I embrace.

I need not go elsewhere for it is here,

in this place of peace where the heart beats steady

and the nightmares of yesterdays dreams

have slipped into their bottomless cracks

lost to worry

exempt from my notice.

I wander down these roads of bliss

spending time in quiet reflection

as the sun trickles down like rain

glistening between the spaces of calm

filling the cracks with abundance and joy.

I’ve been quite busy at work lately and have missed my sojourns into the writing world, so before I slipped away to the day to day, thought I would share this beautiful image and some kind words to ponder as you join me on my day of bliss. Peace and blessings and I shall be back to regular production this week. Yay, keep calm and zen on folks. K

Black Friday – Dark Reading #Kindle #KindleBargain

Richards book is available for a limited time at a most excellent price, just in time as book two is being launched, see where it all began ❤

Richard M. Ankers - Author

My publisher, Creativia, have a Limited Offer on The Eternals Book 1.

For all those who would like to read it from Nov 25th – Dec 1st the book is on a kindle £0.99/$0.99 deal.

This ties in excellently with the release of book two, Hunter Hunted.

And as seen as I’m on my own blog and don’t have to hold my tongue, I’ll let you all in on a secret: Book 3, Into Eternity, is finished.


To purchase just click here: The Eternals

As always

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Richard

Richard M. Ankers author of The Eternals Series.

The Eternals

Hunter Hunted

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A nudge from the universe

As I sit glancing at the images

beautiful thoughts filling my mind today

and all of the blessings that have been given.

So far from yesterday yet still so close in heart

I see the magic of spirit around me

of those no longer here.

Gentle games they play with me,

numbers I adore come unexpectedly and I watch,

waiting for more

as I think of a person who wrote so long ago

and a passage that always comes to my mind,

as I turn to the next read on the universal web

I see his words staring at me

almost as if in a taunting smile

that to believe in the goodness around,

keeping the heart light and the spirit strong

I am moving in the right direction

with nudges from the universe.

I laugh then just because

and it feels so very good down within,

to set free the spontaneity of joy

and to feel so very thankful today

and every day,

how these moments let me know that it will be,

the magic will continue to spin around

wrapping me in its sparkling embrace

as I light a candle or two or three

giving light and love to a festive moment,

I am humbled by these gifts

and give thanks.

Hymn

The front row seat

eyes closed under the sun that sweeps

in and out in her finest cloud stole,

the notes play like a symphony

and I am carried away in the peace of the present.

Musical interlude

invisible strings pluck the bars

as the twinkling pitch of sound

drift on the wind to my ears.

I am lost in the hymn of the whisper of breeze

endless in its beauty,

a gift of a piece that marks the moments

as sweet escape into the concerto.

Captured

He says they are never good enough,

yet sends me the moon that he sees,

perhaps he held it in his hand before it fell

captured in ripples that landed at his feet.

Weathered and tired at times

I hear in the voice between sentences

the font of a father so far

distance can never keep apart

when we stand beneath the same orb

feeding us with the light she gives.

He captures her, one after another after another

and pockets them in the electric mail

sent with love from somewhere up above

and I smile knowing we share

that same love

the same eyes that see as we look up,

remembering the feelings of forgiveness

for below her

everything is real and sacred

and nothing can ever be hidden from the light

when shared between one soul to another,

like small pebbles in our hands

still warm from love passed

from a father to a daughter

I think they’re beautiful

and a gift that’s always just enough.

My father emailed me yesterday and sent some photos he had taken of the super Moon, as usual saying his skills are lacking, I thought I would share the one I liked best. Men fish below her light and I’m sure the tides were full and deep. I hope they caught a lot, as my father has. I’m proud and honored. They are beautiful to me, reflections in the water, from a man to his daughter.

We are…almost there.

Within each drop lies a reflection

turning inward, backward, forward into

ourselves and all we see,

we are these tiny movements

rippling out to touch the edge of something,

anything, nothing at all

as we return once more to our beginning.

Gravity moves us unknowingly

we turn, spin and begin once again

to the creation like an echo bouncing

off of the cosmic thought.

Sun and moon twirl round so slow

yet we move ever faster as if to go

anywhere, somewhere, here and there

to nowhere and everywhere in between.

To awaken with a thought that comes full circle,

like a deja vu of another time and place

we vaguely recall somewhere within

that it is where we need to be

to feel that sublime peace descend

like snow that falls on a mountain in the distance,

we know it will become the stream

which we cross over

or will move upwards once more to fall

like the gentle misted rain

that cleanses our mind

into a gentle harmony filled

with serenity.