Poetry "The hour before dawn" by gennepher

the hour before dawn

a still point in a turning world

library reading rooms empty at night

enchanted forest,

the child lived

to the tick of a different clock.

old sepia photograph

drained of life

so many names, so many layers

whispering her name, the wind.

she lived as a ghost

nothing connected,

in her cloak of blue

she melted

into the bluebell woods.

seeing with different eyes

she wondered,

where does thought end...

"My Child and I" a poem by gennepher

my child and I
on the bleak cliff-tops
walking
on a dull and cloudy day.
a seagull whirrs in the air above
whispering the earth
whispering below.

a ruined keep
old walls crumbled
doorway
into the darkness.
black wrought iron gates
clang shut
reverberating
descending into the unknown.
my child was frightened.

the gates opened
into a room
suffused with a golden glow.
the man looked up from his work
"where are your other children," he asked.
my eyes downcast
"I've left them behind," I replied.
he smiled
and took me gently by the arm.
it was a warm and comforting day.

reluctantly I returned above.

a while later he paid me a visit.
our children played.
a gentle loving
dancing of minds.

on parting
our fingers touched
a silver thread.
apart
yet together.
freedom.