Night Murmurs

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Night Murmurs

 

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.

 

Pleasure in a WORD

THROB

 

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

Its exultant cry of existence

The Voice

THE VOICE

It woke me from my sleep,
I heard it call my name.
Not plaintive nor appealing,
The gentle murmur came.

Not desperate nor demanding, 
Nor urgent nor imploring,
A voice I recognised
From the deep grave was calling.

As she had once addressed me,
Just quizzical, requesting
A warm word in response
Our lifetime’s love suggesting

Half awake I called out “Yes?” 
Expecting a reply
But no such came and then I knew
It had to be “Goodbye”. 

Four times I’ve heard in recent days 
my name called out on waking 
It can’t be real. It can’t be true,
It must be memory faking.

A voice that I had known
From the grave’s depth calling
A voice now lost to me
Lost memory forestalling.

A wake-up call to start my day 
My new life here without you 
I miss you so. But now I know 
You wish me life anew.