The ancient bell of the temple summons lost spirits to prayers; murk figures roam alone unacquainted on snow covered mountains where peaks punctuate streaming cauldron clouds, drawing birds that circle the meditative winds. Chimes from the west, bring the mist in to wander with the wind from the east – dusk strikes the temple bell for worship; the tranquil mist rolls away and vanishes to rejoin the hawks circling the snowy peaks in meditative glide.
I write poetry/prose/stories/short stories/verses for children/sketch/and have 6 chapters of a novel sitting there like that half eaten trifle in the fridge or bottle of Jack Daniels because something makes you afraid to eat it or drink... right now..
I am a proud Geordie from England's northern hemisphere and the beautiful city of Newcastle upon Tyne. I live with my lovely husband who came all the way from sunny California just for me, and my favourite animal, Bobble, our dog.
I am a member of Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth and wish we could all do more, especially today, when such a lot is wrong.
View all posts by Anita Lubesh
Well-written.
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Thank you!
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A very nice poem. Thanks for posting it.
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Thank you for reading it, and for commenting. Take care.
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