Gill Wyatt Miscellaneous, Poetry 0 comments
I could not place the lady who stared back. In vain I sought to recognise her face. I wracked my brain, but all to no avail. Her countenance was creased her hair matt grey limp clothes hung on a frail, stooped form framed in an autumn mist. I looked at her with wistful sigh, knowing […]
Gill Wyatt Miscellaneous, Poetry 0 comments
At night the voice of evil echoes in my head. It leaves the soundproof cell it occupies by day, infecting the wound of imagination. A taunting drone of accusation. I turn, from side to side but peace ignores my inner cry, it passes by brushing my face with a clammy hand. There will be no […]
Gill Wyatt Miscellaneous, Poetry 0 comments
Ambushed by saboteurs I returned, too late. Loud shouts cried the warning. Choking on smoke I advanced, Battled the blinding darkeness to rescue from the ruins. The battering ram of fear pounded my temples. There was no defence. I surveyed the burnt remains of the cake.
Gill Wyatt Miscellaneous, Poetry 0 comments
They smile, and all the while they ponder how to pounce upon their prey. The hounds stalk, surround and terrify the trembling foe with haunting howls. They isolate their victim, sneer and snarl, protected by the pack, they attack.
Gill Wyatt Miscellaneous, Poetry 0 comments
Her scarred heart is hidden in an oubliette of regret and sorrow. Tomorrow she will live, love, feel. Today she must stay in this place of despair, where decay is the only increase, as she waits for release that never comes because nobody knows she is there.
Gill Wyatt Miscellaneous, Poetry power 0 comments
Power In your fairyland castle you sit enthroned calling your subjects to dance to the rhythm of your breath, remote, aloof, from the failing strength of fluttering wings that frantically flutter in death. Your enchantment fades with your magic words that no longer fix your people’s woes and flattering tongues choose not to see, and […]
Gill Wyatt Miscellaneous, Poetry
A thief at night it creeps through windows, cracks, chinks, embedding in my heart and soul, the seeds of lies which grow to weeds; strangling breath from living words that wait in unprotected earth.
I see the open sky but I am trapped. Humming softly I nuzzle the force field. It doesn’t yield. I panic, buzz louder, push harder, fly with all my strength and fall, stunned. I rise, and still I see the open sky.
Unseen, unheard the seed drifts. Softly, gently, it falls to its resting place where earth becomes a grave as life ebbs, withers, dies. It lies, beneath the cold, dark dust until the tomb becomes a womb that nurtures, waters, warms as the sapling forms, raises its head, and takes a breath defying death.
Gill Wyatt Injustice, Loss and Death, Poetry
Beyond hope, her sight is fixed on a time that cannot be, imagining what lay in her daughter’s DNA. She gazes through a haze of sorrow past eyes that plead, and dreams of a world that might have been, of childhood laughter, and of play. A life nipped in the bud, her baby will not […]
