~
darkness comes
with a stealthy tread,
its silent cloak ushering
in primeval fears that
birth deep within us,
time slows, night noises
keen in our ears, the
imagined becomes real,
shadows take on form,
it’s time for poetry, thus
from the darkness
words begin to stir
solitary verbs creep
in search of furtive
nouns and sombre
adjectives collude to
fabricate dreams,
ghouls and ghasts
burrow deeply to
prick and prod the
subconscious mind
then swiftly flee
as we sharply wake
*
© Graham R Sherwood 09/25
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 