I dreamt a dream of Rebecca,
As if she drew anear,
It was a dream filled with profound
Forgotten love and fear.

That was a joyful day I know,
We talked and played and sang
Within the spacious airy rooms;
Somewhere a church bell rang.

There all day long we ran and laughed,
And lovely words exchanged,
We plucked and ate our favourite fruit,
A wholesome lunch arranged.

Beside the casement long we stood,
And we beheld a stream,
Whose water made a ringing sound,
I heard in a sweet, sweet dream.

The evening breeze played with her locks,
That moved and swayed and flew,
And on her cheeks the moonbeams fell,
The evening breeze still blew.

She told me of her ancient home,
More ancient than this fort,
She could continue, unless a bat
would screech, her flow abort.

Down from the rafter he emerged,
Flew past the corridor,
His shiny eyes gleamed in the dark,
His ***** the silence tore.

We stood there still, we could not move,
A certain fume engulfed
Our eyes and mind, full numb we stood;
Meanwhile a wild hound barked.

I want to tell what happened then,
Although my brain betrays,
All the strange shapes men have not seen,
Did tame us and amaze.

A sudden noise, a ghastly noise
I heard, it broke my trance.
The buoyant soul of Rebecca
Off went, departed once.

Down from the terrace steep she fell,
She danced three years ago,
The sudden thud that ceased her breath,
Ceased her blood to flow.

THE GREY BLACK NIGHT

The grey leaden sky covers the land casting a shadow over this sombre place.
Shadows leap from every tree and boulder until they seem to dance
everywhere you look.
Trees stand in stark silhouette against the sky, the wind makes them sway
and creek like skeletal limbs askew.
This is the gothic night of the beautiful colour of grey.
Grey skies make way for black, darkness starts to colour
the land leaving ghosts and shadows all as one.
Now not even the trees can be seen as everything is coloured black,
the night has come at last…

white surfaces flash in fluorescent lighting –

this is no opus, heaving on cold bathroom tiles,

blood and grain against porcelain,

convulsing creature in all its grotesque obloquy:

bleary and snotting. four-walled, windowless, antiseptic vivarium;

life crawls outside. it thrives, it devours, it fortifies.

inside, here, it repulses. ****** effluvium of all kinds.

sharp shrieks of skin across glossed floor, tears soak

before the cliff of the jaw. nothing stays.

wiping drool off the sterile sink and sweat off my knotted back.

snarls choking into sobs, sobs gasping for air.

this is no opus; blackening from corners,

the repugnant vignette held between fingernails –

for the contagious odium of the resigned abhorrent

bleeds and drips and stains.

neglect and rejection strewn like pearls,

pearls, worth nothing, feeling everything.

a fly buzzes in the stark fluorescent light,

and blackness climbs in. blackness consumes.

you still haunt my fears
and dreams

i've blocked out the sun
yet i can still hear you scream
across the lights

and i can still hear you

your presence burn
feed on the dried tears

prance on the memories
enslaved by the forgotten years

and i sit inside the
pages

cold and alone i yearn
learn about the melancholic
corners and spaces

trying to paint
ghosts and their faces

ash leaves behind no
scars and no traces

cold and alone i yearn
frolicking on ends
frozen forever and sedated

the wheels have spun
in arms of someone
and everything else has faded

but your presence
still burns

the flames igniting
the nights

across the skies
and seven seas

as far as the time
can see

you're everywhere
dancing

so naked so free

and i have an eternity
of nothing else to be

but be mesmerised
by that that i cannot see

haunted.