Holes

Holes
In the clouds
Mouth
To consume
Swallow
The sky
Engulf
The world

Unwelcome

As the man walked toward the door, the house gave a shudder, bricks breathed cement, windows shimmied in their frame and the floor boards groaned. Each time the threshold was breached it went through the process of assessing, judging. Once owned, loved, and now abandoned it fought to survive. As the man in the hard hat stepped once more, glimpsing at the demolition crew waiting on the outskirts of the garden, the house gathered its forces. A cold wind wrapped around the construction worker, drawing him closer to the stone, scraping his face on the rough brick work, before expelling him. He was thrust across the lawn, landing at the feet of his colleagues. They began to walk away; there would be no intrusion today.

Misty Moor

Shades of mist
Reach down
To kiss the
Heather
Caress
The wild moor

Farewell

The leaves lay fallen, an autumn blanket as we sit on the bench, your hand in mine. The gardens are deserted, a few brisk walkers on their daily commute, blind to our existence. I brush the hair from your eyes, captured by your emerald eyes, I let out a regretful sigh, sorry for our final farewell.

Hardest words

Soft blue eyes
Enchanting
Gazing
Upon my face
Breaks my heart
Time slipping away
How do I say
Goodbye

Ticking

Rhythmic ticking of
the clock, constant reminder
you never returned

turn back

Blazing orange
Fills the sky
Soaking through
the clouds
Colours
Reflected in
Rear view mirror
Driving away
From the light
Only darkness ahead

Misty Morning

Unforgiving mist
Lurks high and low
Consuming the landscape
Covering it in grey
No colour to see
Brightness all gone
World left to wither
Bathed in shades
Of monochrome.

Dust

The house held secrets; Alex knew this he could feel it in his skin. His grandma told him it was just the cold, to wrap up warm. But he knew. His grandma’s house was old, full of nooks and crannies to explore; it was the large parlour he was interested in though. Atop the mantelpiece lay an ornate ivory box. Alex longed to touch it. He had seen it a couple of times, before the door was shut tight, his grandma blocking his way, ‘Not in there Alex, that’s not for you’.

Still he longed, and soon enough he got his opportunity. His grandma’s friends were round, chatting and drinking tea, dropping biscuit crumbs on the floor. Minds engaged with the business of the village raffle. He glimpsed in on them, ensuring they were occupied and then crept across the hall.

His socks shuffled on the hard tile floor, each step a small victory. A cough and he turned, nerves wrought within him. He didn’t want to get caught, didn’t want to be stopped, took a deep swallow and continued on his way.

Hand on the door knob he slowly turned, and stepped inside. The room was large and light, dust sparkled in the air. He stepped quickly across to the hearth; the box was within his reach. Taking a moment to look at it, he saw it had an unusual shine, no dust settled here. He stretched out his arm, ready to grasp,

‘No Alex’, his grandma called. She was too late, his hand touched the box and he was gone, vanished in an instant joining the other dust particles floating in the room. Existing yet not, coating the house in a carpet of youth.

Whisper

Whispers in dreams
haunt me when I wake
sleepwalk through the day
until I dream again.