20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers



nights air was foggy ,chilly to the touch

sky being dark , not seeing that much

sounds amplified as no movement observed

walking in my dream , being unheard

masses around me continuing with life

I by myself consumed with my strife

heartbeat begins nimble, slowing as time rolls on

next thing I see , light from a blue and cutting dawn

waking in her arms our hearts beating as one

released from this dream , one more night is done






My Dreams….

My nights are shallow , need to make that leap

I fight all night , but still can’t sleep

Next thing I know my mind is screaming

Feels so real , but I think I’m dreaming

When I think my dreams come unsurpassed

I’m dreaming again , about my past

Thoughts of things , wont go away

Buried til I sleep , then they play

I wake to hair and pillow all wet

Then my dreams they all reset

Thanks for reading …Remember Please like , comment and share..Thanks timzauto


1 Comment

Shadow Walkabout

Luke’s exhaustion consumed his last blink as he slipped beneath the watery depths of sleep.  His demons however did not retreat, chasing him relentless.  Their footprints forming trails of steam behind him, or were they his.  Gone too quick for anyone to follow, lost so that he never shares his burdens.  He has to rest and the only shade he can see is provided by a shadow with no discernible source.  In his fatigue his senses are dulled and his awareness is clouded, so he fails to realise that he stands under a shadow, cast by no one or from nothing.

Suddenly a girl, no more than 8 years old, appears by his side.  Her face is glowing; she is vibrant, energetic and quizzically turning her head as she stares at him.  She seems confused with Luke’s stance. “Why do you stand in the sun, when shade is at hand?” she asks, sweeping her hand in a gentle movement towards a Coolabah tree.  “You look hot, would you like a drink?”

Luke’s dried lips crack as he opens mouth.  He has dare not speak for as long as he can remember, out of fear that his lips would dissipate in the wind.  “Where did you come from?” his voice rasps.

She just smiles, and then skips away deeper into the desert.  The shadow pursues her vainly into the darkness of the forgotten.  Luke thinks of yelling out to her again, but raising his hand to hail her is painful enough.  Confused he isn’t sure what is real.  The thought however is too hard to contemplate at the moment, so he turns, crunching the barren soils beneath his feet as he drags his feet slowly to the tree.  Where did this tree come from he wonders, but in a land with no landmarks and no recollection of how he got here, there is little time to be concerned with such trivial matters.

He reaches the edge of the shade and mutters to no one in particular “Goodbye” before stepping over the threshold.  He wakes before he feels the cool relief of the shade.  Lying face down in reality, to face the battles of life that refuse to submit even in surreal lands.

1 Comment

Earth Songs

In early morning earth tunes up its harp.
Emerging from the flat dark night, the sharp
shrill bird songs call me from my silent sleep
where I in cottoned quiet cannot keep

my consciousness awake. I spiral down
to places where my dream becomes my town.
I star in my own movie, watch the flow
of action, but then with the morning’s glow

remember nothing. Now the flutes sing tunes
and I come into wakefulness. Day croons
its melodies from sunrise into bright
surprises. Could these gifts have come from night?

A Small Dream

I haven’t written anything substantial for so long.. seems to me as if the worm that used to make me write is now dead; still I am trying feebly to write something, even if it is bizarre.

A small dream

of doing something,


just to get off bed,

have a nice bathe,

wear some decent clothes

and set out to see the world-

its a small dream

I dream of everyday

staying, sulking on the bed.

1 Comment


Silent trumpet sounds


The oblivious and innocent

Into vacuous voids,

ethereal eclipses –

Angelic wings dance blithely

Dripping tiny baubles of hope

Melting in mid-air

Dreams, splayed like kindling

Beneath a roaring fire

Where sparks ignite the dirt

With stars too heavy to fly toward the moon

Suffocating lest fingertips burn

Leaving ashy-white memories

Subtly heralding promises of pleasure.

Etched on mental panes

Snowflake images of perfection

transforming teardrops

with the heat from one

quiet sigh.

Would You?

If you were to reach up and grab a star

what would that wish be?


If you were to hug a tree and dream of it’s beginnings

what would you see?


If you were to grab hold of a rainbow

would you think it’s colours majestic?


If you were to gaze into a beggars eyes

would you feel apathetic?


If you were to look upon yourself

would you see your inner brilliance?


If you were to tell the world who you are

would you expose your radiance?


Yes you would – you would wish for what you want the most for yourself or others

From earth to life – you would appreciate everything that is natural

Yes – The thoughts of the colourful life you have had

No you wouldn’t  – for you know not what life they have led

Are you undecided about just how brilliant you are?

Are you too humble to tell the world that yes indeed you shine?







Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,791 other followers

%d bloggers like this: