WILD IMAGININGS…

Routes are packed
With the absence of people
And abandoned woodland dens,
Still holding those insistent conversations,
The budding minds, pulled at the roots
Of bluebells and stared
Straight into the world’s eye
Which glowed down at them
Through gaps in the leaves.

HAUNTED HOUSE…

Gentle, insistent bleeps,
I flinch.
Hinges groan and creak,
My muscles tense.

This house is so full,
A time capsule of lives;
Moments lived and breathed,
Now immortalised and drifting away,
Garments of children
Long since gone
And changed from all recognition,
Shelves littered with ornaments
And old trophies mocking their winners.

We are tortured and plagued
By the memories which eye us
Eerily from every shelf and cupboard,
Poisoning the stifling air
Until a heavy hand comes down,
Pounds on stiff leather.
Occupants jump, hearts leap
The silence breaks – without release.

Those framed memories,
They take on a new sheen.
Frozen smiles now too stretched,
Casually slung arms;
Questionably stiff, formal, posed.
The happy group?
Now, almost comical,
Pale, fragile and holding their breaths,
Figures, now abandoned,
Suspended in time
Longing to be forgotten.