# July Challenge: "Interwoven"



## Chesters Daughter (Jul 1, 2016)

The prompt for this month's *anonymous* challenge, as chosen by Terry D is: *Interwoven

**KINDLY BE ADVISED THAT ALL ENTRIES ARE ELIGIBLE TO RECEIVE CRITIQUE WITHIN THE VOTING THREAD
*
You are free to interpret the prompt in any way you wish, though of course, site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board.

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This challenge will close on the 15th of July at 7pm EST.*


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 6, 2016)

*
I Cannot Bear*


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 8, 2016)

*​Unnamed*

Interwoven in time, 
your eyes see through me,
knowing all my secrets,
long before you knew the Light.

Alone, in the dark,
you think of me,
and I am thinking of you:
a perfect stranger, lover, creator.

Your passion moves me, your love enlightens.

Curiosity is your best feature. It will take you far. 

Mountains of fear, oceans of excitement,
until we meet again. 

Interwoven in eternity.

I am You.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 9, 2016)

*In The Silver Twilight*

[FONT=&Verdana]Do you remember when we were small,
When the days drew themselves out so far?[/FONT]
The sun was very warm, and the trees were very tall;
White was pure white, and black was black as tar.
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]Night rocked us to sleep in a cool room,
Us in the quiet sheets, the nightlight all aglow.
Our mother’s lullabies over us bloomed, 
Her words blanketing us like snow.
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]_Weave songs over me, Memory,_
_Weave scents of apple-blossom through._
_In the silver twilight, Memory,_
_Interweave the old with new. _
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]White is still snow-white, dark is still dark,
And mother’s songs roll on like the sea;
In the nightlight she left a note and a mark,
To speak to us in our dreams.
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]Day is still warm, and night is still cold
And in the quiet we still may sleep
Yet, we children have now grown old
And some things are lost in the deep.
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]_Weave songs over me, Memory,_
_Weave scents of apple-blossom through._
_In the silver twilight, Memory,_
_Interweave the old with new. _
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]The hills are rolling on through time,
Rolling on like the sea past our room.
But some red dawn we’ll open our eyes
And the lost things will rise from the gloom.
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT][FONT=&Verdana]Time, speeding now, will wind away,
And the small things will grow from the dim;[/FONT]
Dear mother, we’ll see you again someday,
And God will gather the children to him.
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]_Weave songs over me, Memory,_
_Weave scents of apple-blossom through._
_In the silver twilight, Memory,_
_Interweave the old with new. _
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]So, sing, little children, safely sleep,
Whether that morning come later or soon.
Meanwhile we’ll all be counting sheep
Under that fading, dying moon.

[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]
[FONT=&Verdana]
[/FONT]


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 11, 2016)

*[entangled]*


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 12, 2016)

*The Will of the Wisp*

Catch it, a will-o-wisp racing ‘cross the moor, beckoning from the trees.
Echoes of a song, a melody of ancient stones, a hymn of hallowed bone,
winging with the wisp as it winkles through the glen, making for the sea.
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.

A shadow dance through the dappled wood, a light marking the next rise,
ahead, away from all familiar things, a clattered murmur of foreign stones.
_Come…_wills the wisp. Flickers of hope and fear glimmer in worried eyes.
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.

Threads of flame shimmer, twining about slender boled birches, the wisp,
free, untamed as her bright hair, paths of fire twisting into the unknown.
_Believe, if only for a moment_. _Come away to where the air is apple crisp._
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.

Coming down, a circuitous whirl, a path winding through from nowhere—
Or so it seemed, until the refrain of the stones echoes, calling to the bones.
On a path to nowhere, that forgotten place—Gentle fingers traced his hair.
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.

_There_…At his feet, still crisp with dew, a single alder leaf, golden bright.
Odd, a foreigner in a realm of birch and elm, a deviation from the known.
_Just go away…Leave me be…_Words she had murmured that fateful night.
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.

It was there, passing between the gossiping leaves, an echo of her tears.
Cursing himself a fool, he kissed that alder leaf, cast it out, a seed sown.
The breeze, fickle with her touch caught it, as his common sense jeered.
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.

Adrift in a delicate twilling, he followed almost as if the wisp was willing—
One foot after the other, murmuring stones, a familiar litany to his bones,
when the path plunged over a wash, the wind refreshed, briny and chilling.
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.

Behind lay the woodland, ahead the sea and upon its shore, an alder tree.
Under its weighted, golden leafed boughs, she sat, a wisp casting stones.
A triskelion path wound, carrying the wayfarer to where he needed to be.
Kiss the golden alder leaf, follow the circle round, water to air to ground.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 12, 2016)

*Fragmentation Finale*

There's a stranger inside skin
leaving little room for me,
living rent free,
and I can't recall 
when she slithered in.

Not bound by the box,
the bossy sly fox
started twanging strings
making mouth
and muscles
do horrible things.

She seems to favor
aberrant behavior,
the worse the better
for her to savor.
Now dry eyes drown
when no one's around
and desire for disaster
secretly adorns plaster.
Maniacal murals
done in plurals

because once is just not enough,
no missed messages allowed.
Swirling purple and black
extol impending payback,
yet no one sees it but us.

She flaps my tongue
and praises once sung
now ramble in reverse
cackled to tackle
intended targets
with a sniper's aim
meant to maim.

I'm ankle deep
in dropped flies,
downed victims of _her _rise,
for surely it can't be me
goring egos so brutally.

Or can it?

Too many hushed fears,
shushed tears, yes dears,
hear, hears, silenced jeers,
concealed sneers, 
and broken dates
with pinking shears,
engraved an invitation

to myself

she is me
and we
will always be

one.

Weary of being pestered,
the muted me sequestered
kept crippled and bedridden
has learned to walk and talk

and what I held in
set her free.

Melded by angst,
the world has my thanks
now never alone
I'm no stepping stone

take care where you tread.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 13, 2016)

*Extant Recall*

A mandala warms my floor.

I count backward; 
disappear 
into looms and knots, 
twisting curves of red and gold. 
Blue midnight dye 
drinks silk and wool.

I'm caught
in living threads.
Flowers birth gold, 
stream vines 
to scarlet circles
and indigo squares. 
Corners lure me
through webs of purple.

From India’s Salvation Army Store, 
I exhume souls and hands
of women and children
and place them 
before the loom, 
this time, with filmy wings, 
bounty, and soothing salves.

Their tender wrists
arc to fingers thrum.
A pomegranate 
coddled inside their clothes
tastes of crimson blood
and sweetness.

The archaeological bone 
still strong; 
each fiber aware, as antiquity 
weaves it’s circle
of soft silk and wool. 
Beneath calloused fingers,
intention and design 
alive; remembered.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 15, 2016)

*Brexit (Language)*

Grey people unite to decide 
No thanks, EU, it’s been one _hell _of a ride.
Stuff greedy fat-cat city bankers
who rhyme so eloquently with W, as in w...w...'ankers'

Stuff investments,stocks and shares,
employment, Europe and currency scares.
EU grants for education and city culture,
workers' rights,farmers and agriculture.
Ha, don't wail Wales you voted 'Leave'
the hype and promises, an illusion to deceive.

Prejudice now preserved for posterity
welcome back to years of austerity.
Interwoven cultures, like knots in string
- unpicking life will be no easy thing.

So raise the flag: cheers to one and all
to island mentality and please don’t brawl.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 15, 2016)

*
a small place in Poland *


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## Chesters Daughter (Jul 15, 2016)

This challenge is now closed.


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