"A White Feather Falls" a poem by gennepher

               

A WHITE FEATHER FALLS by gennepher

long ago

amidst dawn’s mists a story began.

eyes so deep this universe

the stars we flew in orbs of light

a distance between us,

time passed

s  i  l  e  n  t  l  y

catching the songs as they escaped

the child kept them safe in her pocket.

petal by petal

this secret life unfolded

blossoming for such a brief time

yet twined together for eternity.

whispering untold dreams

we vanished in to an unknown world,

tracks that led nowhere

an endless talking of pain and heartache.

each way I turned this blue of you reached out

and yet

silence.

watching you this afternoon

I realised you have to go.

hanging in the air echoes of our future

be safe, take care

this night of soft farewells

fading into this wordless sky.

The endless night

where the moon remains to grieve

shimmering, half-seen

we say see you soon.

a white feather falls

I hold your hand

hiding this whisper of you and I.

your voice softer now

drifts back.

This Granite Stone of Death by gennepher (poem)

THIS GRANITE STONE OF DEATH by gennepher

each way I turn

this blue of you reaching out

and yet, silence

trickles down granite stone,

this melancholy

of thought

walls

rearranging,

walls

always 

walls

paintings fading,

bewildered the room empties

brown walls

brown ceiling

brown floor

blood red roses

turning black

hanging their heads,

these decaying petals

falling

drop by drop

bleeding dry

this granite stone of death

the blue eyed child

of thought

opens its eyes

slowly

in innocence

TOMORROW IS ONLY ANOTHER DAY a poem by gennepher

TOMORROW IS ONLY ANOTHER DAY
by gennepher

Waiting
for mists to clear
echoes whispering
tomorrow
is only another day.
Meanwhile
the nightingale 
sings.
I look 
for your hooded eyes 
this distance 
between 
us. 
Kites
flying above
the church on the hill.
On the coping stone
of the ancient bridge
I peel back moss
covering
our initials.
The dog's ears prick up
one, two, three, four, five
ravens fly past...
Love...
I travelled the road
in this lifetime
peeling back moss
covering our initials.
This paved path
of gravestones
underfoot
I take care
to mind the cracks.
"I'll always 
be here" you said,
I look at the clouds 
this distance 
between us. 

Her black cloak
flowing in the wind
unseen
beneath the hood
her eyes gaze out to sea.

Sunny Sunday...photos of my garden by gennepher

Sunshine Sunday in my garden by gennepher (photos)

A little sunshine in my garden today by gennepher

  

  

       

      

      

     

      

   

Poetry "HER SILENT VIGIL" by gennepher

a flight of seagulls,
pale daughters of silent seas
wraiths of whitened bones.
immortal creatures,
luminous within dark seas
their sorrowful eyes.

sea waters flowing
a murmur downward of rain,
tears of silenced feet.
her agonized cry
opacity of matter,
atonement's dark song.

garlanded with waves
her signature of sorrow,
white foam fluttering
swaying the essence
of sorrowful whitened bones,
calm molded her face.

her silent vigil
a singular existence under white foam veils.

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.

THE WINDOW CRIED

I so need to paint

and lose my soul in painting,

the canvas blank

paint leaving a trail.

An awareness of the picture

in my mind that

has no existence outside,

not memories but yet something earlier.

Doorway to forever opens

revealing fleeting happiness

painted forever.  

No-one saw me leave I stepped sideways,

leaving behind a moment in my life,

the distant future a certainty.

Real and unreal slid together as one

there but apart somewhere in the distance.

The reflection in the window I couldn't see past it

just out of reach, something unknown.

The window cried for me.

A woman with a tired frail face

stared back at me.

I wonder why she looks so tired

detached on the outside looking in.

Infiniteness of infinity and beyond.

I remember so clearly a walk long ago

with the fresh smell of pine.

Around me

a knot in the pine frame

weeps.

THE OCEAN

She heard it in the echoes

of the rosary beads of memories,

be aware of words

beware of them.

Behind her eyelids she watched

illusion and reality,

the dance of life.

Paint peeling

the lighthouse sang an old song,

part of everything part of nothing,

unsettling the ocean.

A slender  thing

what might have been,

hidden

for a lifetime.

Lullaby of heartfelt longing

On the golden stairs hands received

seagulls of space

flying between stars

wing-tip to wing-tip.

The past,

she held her secrets

letting them go one by one

into a garden of possibilities,

planted by you.

Snippets of memories

always hovering so near.

As the sun set,

the wind blew softly

whispering her real name,

and the lullaby began her search

on the blank white page of innocence.

Deep within,

the path wandered,

and the mouth asked a silent question.

No one answered,

so the wind blew gently

and carried the lullaby home.

No words for me

I wonder
what time will bring
this spring day
catkins  growing on the willow
love lonely so far away. 
Today I stepped outside of me
cream silk rustling
as I dance
here on the island
just you and me.
From over the sea
mists roll in.
 
There are no words for me.

The Child

the child loved her stilts
she walked on them all summer
raindrops shimmering in the sun
iridescent downpour
the moonlight casting many shadows
the child remembered
the twinkle in her granddad’s eyes
she stepped through the door
stars twinkled 
she looked on the earth forever
the snail on the garden path
a silver trail
hanging down their heads shyly
snowdrops

A thought whispers

shadows falling
the evening enfolds
a thought whispers
gnarled hawthorn tree
within twisted branches
the moon restrained
face pale and poignant
moon slipped into darkness
stars wept silently
inside the mind
the otherworld
a freedom
in evening's silence
the whispering voice carried far and wide
enticement to sleep

THE RED PENKNIFE by gennepher

hope

freedom

unconditional love

knowledge

understanding

granddad’s love

I lost it

his red penknife I mean

not his love

'Jade - an uncatlike cat'

somewhere in heaven • green eyes • staring down • tail wrapped • around the moon 
#tanka for Jade _/|\_ by @CoyoteSings 

Jade was always different, even from the start. She would just sit among chaos and watch with an inscrutable expression.

She never fathomed out how to climb. other cats shimmied up trees, but Jade laboriously put one paw above another on the tree trunk and hauled herself up paw by paw. Then she could not figure out how to get down again.

 

Eventually I found it easier for me to put ladders up where she wanted to go. Against her tree, my potting shed and garage. She could now climb with ease and more importantly get down by herself. Jade loved ladders.

The only problem was in the house when decorating took place and the paint tray was on the top shelf of the ladder…

An affectionate cat, she cleaned and nursed the other cats even though she herself had never had kittens. But, strangely none of the other cats cleaned or nursed Jade.

She would hang on my jeans leg as I walked. My legs still bear scratches from a few days ago. I would take her off to hold and stroke her, but she’d get down and hang, swinging on my jeans leg again as I walked…

On my wooden swing, Jade would sit upright for hours on end without moving a muscle. I tried to photograph her many times, but as soon as I produced a camera she moved and stuck her face into the lens. I have so few photographs of her.

 

Jade appears to have no idea her whiskers were to give information on the size of space her head was to about to enter. More than once I found Jade lying lifeless with her head stuck in a tin can (not mine as I always squashed the ends together) or other object.

 

Once when I was unable to pull her out or apply the tin can opener as I was shaking too much, I stuck the can with Jade in it onto the wall electric can opener. Can, and cat whirling unceremoniously around. Then she fell out and eventually started breathing again.

Jade had no sense of danger in many situations and used up far more than her fair share of nine lives. She was a completely innocent cat and used no guile or tricks to get her own way.

 

Jade is now wrapped in a pretty red sari. She is underneath the stone angel reading to a cat, which sits on the bench where she often sat in the sun. The winter sun is out now, as I am writing this,  and has just reached the stone angel, bathing it in golden light.