I catch a noise before I sleep
The whistlers skulk about
Spreading fear skin deep.
Chirruping secret calls,
Hiding behind garden walls.
Disturbing young girls dreams I wake with terrifying screams.
I pull a quilt over my head,
Hide a torch beneath the bed.
Prepare to fight for my life
I take Mum’s vegetable knife.
It’s old and blunt, bent a bit
She stabs at spuds in the pot
To ascertain if they’re soft or not.
Armed, I squeeze Emma tight,
Her yellow suit warm and bright
She comforts me as I hum
a lulluby learned from Mum.
Doll and me are doing fine
Until music starts keeping time.
Through the crack, behind the bed
I hear the tune, inside my head,
Sweet and soft hardly heard.
Matching me word for word.
Spuriously stuffing notes in a sack
My sleep is wrestled into the black.
Sheets tangle around my legs,
like on the line, around Mummy’s pegs.
I can’t escape, I scream at last,
Sodden sheets and whitened mask.
Tapping her foot beside my bed
Mummy glares, shakes her head.
washed and clean no longer soiled
Tea is made …
For those who want to listen to me speaking the poem click the link below…
I spotted a challenge on Charli Mills site press Here to see.
The challenge to write ninety nine words exactly, in the format of flash fiction on the word Gallop or galloping. This may not be what was expected but anyone who knows me I often make the box rather than think outside It.
A Gallop Was Heard.
Laying here,with my ear pressed to the earth I hear the drum of galloping, hooves pounding so loud with speed as they approach. Sweat breaks my brow as a cold clamminess envelops me.
I lay paralysed, wondering when hooves full of energy will arrive to trample and break my weary body, the one that chose this spot to fall, this sod to pillow my head amongst the grass. As the galloping gets louder and my body refuses to move I in that moment realise the sound is inside my head, as my heart reaches its last finishing post.
I wanted to celebrate with a post, the voices or sounds that have moved me and stayed with me since the first words I heard come from their mouths.
The voices of mesmerising qualities that we can hear in these two men are simply beautiful. There are others who have the “Voicefactor”, the qualities which make whatever they read feel true, and absolutely believable; the ability to make your legs wobble. The celebration of sound and tone of the ones I am sharing today, for me at least stand out as exceptional.
Not being able to show them all here today saddens me, but the wonderful tone of Dame Maggie Smith (just showing I’m not sexist ageist or anyother geist) Betty Davis another such voice, one that curled your toes and made a thousand new born spiders run up your neck ( metaphorically speaking ).
Some not many, but some singers voices resonate, and are remembered more for their voice than the music. Louis Armstrong, Barry White, Leonard Choen and the wonderful Joe Cocker. I am not sexist there are superb females with the same qualities Janice Joplin springs to mind.
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