A whimper came to me at night, A murmur soft as a dream. It crept into my consciousness, As would a silk moonbeam.
This phantom sound, This covert cry, Caused my heart to still; It seemed to me It had to be More than just a sigh.
A threat, A promise, A pleading voice, A start or a cessation? A signal meant for me alone – Oblation or Damnation?
I held my heart in readiness, Wept when no guidance came; Waited too long, The moment gone; As ever I am to blame.
Please Note:Over the next few weeks, whilst I am downsizing and moving house, I shall hopefully be posting only two blogs each week, rather than my usual daily publication. I hope to return to more frequent postings in a few weeks time.
As I woke a word arrived in my consciousness unasked unaided
… THROB …
short word tripped from my dreams tumbled through my lips to spill its delight into the morning air
Dug pleasurably from my waking consciousness as my tongue savoured its existence rolled itself around both lips and my mouth accommodated itself to its cadence
Measuring Its measure against my throat’s resonance thrusting the sound up and out into the waiting wondering world pleased to be out in the morning air a thrill to emit listening as it cuts sensuously with a flautist ‘s thrust through the sensuous surrounding air
The poet’s morning chorus a sound to be repeated joyously with fervour pleasurably savouring its cadence
Repeated it resounds in the room lingering as it ends lingering as I make that final occlusion voicing its bilabial stop strong sensuous evocative voluptuous in its warmth flirtatious in its coquettishness
Onomatopoeic pleasure so soulfully satisfying in its sound-print