When I sit and close my eyes I see blackness that deepens. After a short while shapes begin to appear, indistinct at first, but slowly they begin to move toward me, taking form as pale phantoms of people I have known who are now long dead.

My brother, Peter approaches, tilts his head, and moves on, then friends from another time hover slowly past mouthing silent greetings as pass.

Then, once friends have gone other shapes drift into soft focus. These are the many people I don't know but who I witnessed die and they all whisper the same two words as their shapes dissipate....

.....remember me, please remember me.

I have always found creating things easy, and compulsive.

I am by nature inquisitive, empathic and caring.

I'm too old to retrain in another skill and to worn out to even try, so this is it. I'm throwing all my remaining energies into creating.

I love the written word and the process of assembling those words into something that has meaning. The trouble is I mistook my love of writing for a love of reading, I just hope I have enough left in my rusted out tank to drive this forward, and to be the best I can be in my (ahem), senior years.

I hope that people who read what I write find something they like, though my inner fear is that I've left it too late.

Hey love

Won't you stay?

Forever

this time

Because

I cannot stand losing

Again

I inhale your scent

which lingers on my pillow

Like memories of the past

Your parted lips

kissing

Hands exploring

A touch forever etched in my mind

As goosebumps grace my skin

Remembering the lightness of it

A desire which has tied our hearts

With string

Beating in harmony

As we become one

All over again

Once upon a time, when people were happy with what they had, there lived a mighty wizard who lived all by himself and had only a cat for company. Together they lived in a small house and, as they were both of kindly nature, they never argued and shared everything they had and were amiable.

By day the wizard would wander the land collecting herbs and plants which he used to make potions, while the cat kept house and tended to the washing and cooking. Things were peaceful and both of them sought only to be together and were free from want.

At night, before they retired to bed, our happy pair would sit outside and gaze at the moon and stars. On occasion the cat would play on his mandolin, which pleased the wizard greatly as he loved music, and would dance, causing magical sparks to fly from his feet.

But one day, when the air was alive with bees and nature, the wizard spied a plant he had never seen before, and, as he dealt in magical things he sensed that this plant had strange qualities, so he plucked it excitedly, and flew straight back to the house with all manner of ideas whizzing about in his mind.

His friend the cat was busying himself with his daily chores and was surprised that the wizard had returned so early in the day. But when the wizard told him of his lucky find they both sat down, and drank Earl Grey Tea as the wizard explained the possibilities of his find.

The wizard explained to his friend, who was extremely patient, that this plant could produce a potion of great power and was eager to begin mixing it. The cat however, found no interest in such matters and while the wizard busied himself with his work, he curled up for a nap.

Much later, as the skies began to darken, the cat was woken by a blinding flash of light and a noise so alarming it made him arch his back, and hiss with surprise, because as we all know cats do not like surprises. The wizard came flying through the door and landed with a soft plop, down besides his chair, his beard blackened by soot.

The cat regained his composure, and seeing his friend in such an untidy state caused him to mew and purr with delight, the wizard too saw the funny side of things and joined in the merriment. After they had calmed down the wizard explained to his companion that he had perfected his magical potion, and that he sought to test it. The cat trusted the wizard implicitly and agreed to help him in this matter, so while the wizard cleaned himself up, the cat made Earl Grey Tea, mixing some of the potion within it.

At last all was made ready and the table was neatly laid, our two companions sat themselves down and looked at the teapot, which sat quite happily before them. The wizard poured the magic tea into two cups and allowed his friend extra milk, because as we all know, cats love extra milk. With great excitement the wizard took the first sip as his friend looked on, then, once the cat had seen that all was well, he too took a sip. The cat looked at the wizard, and the wizard looked at the cat, both eager to see what magic would follow.

But there was nothing, so they both finished their drink, and with nothing out of the ordinary to witness, they went to sleep for the night.

The next morning the sky was a beautiful shade of blue, and birdsong filled the air. The cat woke first and after a good long stretch skipped across to wake his friend who was snoring loudly. He leapt on to the wizards bed to wake him up and the wizard duly awoke, sat upright, and immediately noticed that his friend the cat was looking oddly at him. Indeed, not only that, but there was something strange about the cat....it had a beard! The cat meanwhile couldn't quite understand why his friend had not only lost his whiskers, but had somehow developed sleek black fur which covered his his whole face!

The wizard was puzzled, very puzzled because when he said good morning to his friend, he didn't say good morning, he purred. This was very strange indeed and our two friends agreed that a nice pot of Earl Grey was the only solution to this conundrum, so the cat leapt off the bed and skipped into the kitchen, completely unaware of his new beard.

The tea was very agreeable, and once our heroes became familiar with the difference in each other they both agreed that it suited them well, and they laughed heartily and ate some biscuits, why? That's another story.

Cookies baking in the oven

Cinnamon and apple pie

Pumpkin and nutmeg

Home cooked meals of any kind

Pine needles and cold skin

All reminiscent of days gone by

When we were small

Holidays filled with excitement

And families were together

And we were ignorant to stress of the world

Nothing but giggles and sunshine

Oh to be that carefree again

Subliminal Echoing

Targeting legitimate

Stabbing Whimsical

Terminally shedding

Unchanging, sour,

Burying tearfully,

Mercifully,

Regretful,

Mournful,

Dystopian,

Violent Bruised,

Tres Rouge.

I was sliding downhill emotionally.

I had left the community that held me in its arms for over three years, my writing was on the skids.

Opuss had been my daily feed for such a magnificent time, I had many good friends on that site, and had discovered my love for writing while under its wing. But I knew it was time to leave, time to find new horizons and new challenges to hone my basic skills.

But it meant saying goodbye to a special friend and constant muse.

It hurt so bad.

But I made the move, despite my fears, and even though poisoned arrows followed me, I knew deep inside this painful cut was for the best.

Then, just before Christmas a new girl appeared on Prose, and her writing style, and her words struck a chord in my heart and mind that I'd long missed. I couldn't believe it at first, I was uncertain, hesitant.

Then the truth was exposed and she unveiled herself as my lost Opuss Muse and my most vivid flower.

And the sun came from behind a wall of grey cloud and shone down on me and the fear lifted, and I knew we had found the glue we lost.

Everything was going to be fine. She followed me.

One night

A rigid storm occurred

A monk was chanting a prayer on his temple

On the courtyard

A boy was running, looking for a shelter

He was

Broken

Unwanted

Alone

To the door of the temple

He knocks waiting for a couple of seconds

So, the monk stops on praying

He walked by the entrance of the door

The monk smiled wildly

letting the boy in

who was soaking wet from the rain

The boy sat on the shiny floor

lighted by a single candle on the middle.

The monk excused himself

bringing clothes for the boy to wear

he went back to a room on the side

and the boy was left alone

changing his clothes

stripping until his naked

He slipped his feet to the trouser

the monk gave him

As he wore the shirt

he heard a loud growl

He looked by the window

and from there a tiger jump in

crouching, making itself ready

for its kill.

(to be continued)