tanka and micropoetry by gennepher

in her cloak
of
snowdrops
she disappeared effortlessly
back into the snow



***

faceted
crystal
branches
sparkling
in the sun

***



***

outside my window
in robes of crimson and green
a bright holly bush
wearing
a crown of frost

***

snow
on the pavement
sparkling golden
in soft orange glow
of the streetlamp

***



***

the
white
silence
calmly
covered the land

***

frost rimmed leaf
a jewelled
necklace
sparkling
gems

***

***

red berried
hawthorn
hedgerow
cherries
in a cake

***

tree trunks
of
crystal
the branches
tinkling wind chimes

***

***

it
came
so quietly
the snow
falling

***

the
child
of
the
stars

***



***

 a
point
of light
in
the darkness

***

the stars'
tapestry
of light
in the darkness
of night

***

indigo curtain
of night
falling gently down
pinned by
evening star

***

***

in moon's
bright
light
snow glittering
twinkling as stars

***

interlinking
webs of light
across the night sky
pinned to the darkness
by the stars

***

the
silver
nail-polish
twinkled
as moon's fingers moved

***



***

candles
of
the night
each tipped
with a flickering sparkle

***

sparkling
dewdrops
of every hue
stars
in the fields of heaven

***

***

origami
unfolded
the dark night
folded
a bright white star

***

each
night
the voice sang
her
to sleep

***

***

the
stars
whispered
their
song

***

she wrote
a letter
put it under the pillow
he never read it
but carried it forever

***

***

the lullaby
of
wanting
and
peace

***

offerings
both spiritual
and material
are
needed

***



***

inconsequential
things
remembered
clear
and detailed

***

I open
the doorways
of the heart
and lay
my ghosts to rest

***

a
hint
of something
then
it was gone

***



***

tiny
red
rosebuds
framing
the old photograph

***

***

I am
everything
I am
nothing
I am everywhere

***

***

a
christmas
card
the writing
so faded...

***

it
can
set us free
just
one dream

***



***

it
is
an
interesting
life

***

the invisible bunch of roses
not needing jug
nor water
but they last forever
in the mind

***

leaves
of
the forest
pressed
between the book pages

***

love
woven
into the fabric
of
you

***

***

memories
triggered
by
unexpected
things

***

memories
casting
their
golden
rays

***

I
remember
so much
when I
remember you

***

came out
of
the everywhere
into
the here

***

I remember
a
thousand  things
when I
remember you

***

in
my
dreams
the sun
comes out

***



***

his
handwriting
old fashioned
curly
and embellished

***

stories
need
words
to keep them
from dying

***

a profusion
of
celestial hues
the
sunset

***

where grey sky
meets misty moors
no beginning, no end
dreams
of what is yet to be

***

layering
the
earth
many
stories

***

***

the
silver
birch tree
lit the way
through the forest

***

sun
setting
the
oak tree
watches

***



***

a
sparrow
sings
his
song

***

the sun
sinking
into the ground
at the base
of an old oak tree



***

the
garden
bare
a bird
drops a seed

***



***

december
the old road
ends
the untrodden one
begins

***

tanka and micropoetry by gennepher... 'the child'

***

velvet curtains half drawn
room in half darkness
the child looked at the old paintings
of stags on Scottish moorland
they stared back at her...


***

the child was scared of the rug
she'd been told
to sit on it
the fur was itchy on her legs
its stuffed head turned towards her...

***

the child could not walk
through doorways
she had to run
the stuffed stags head above the door frame
opened his mouth further...

***

the stone
staircases
winding upwards
'til they converged
on an old wooden latched door

***

***

so many collections
so much hoarding
in that dusty attic room
and
secrets...

***

in the attic
boxes of old books
collections of pinned butterflies
and birds eggs
wrapped in cotton wool

***

one day
the child was given
boxes of bird's eggs
each one carefully cradled
in cotton wool

***

***

the child was given
a collection
of many butterflies
each one pinned on a board
wings open forever

***

***

the child read
all the books
she could lay her hands on
she read out
her loneliness

***

unseen
the child took a book
from the attic
stamped in purple ink "Prisoner of war camp..."
unaware of its relevance to her

***

***

once
something
becomes known
it cannot become
unknown

***

at night
the child sat
by the attic room window
and watched the sky
she remembered

***

the
attic room
enveloped the child
and
comforted her

***

half a century later
the child returned
for her attic room,
window bricked in, door plastered over
new owners

***

***

the child
could
never understand
why others
could not

***

is
behind the sky
the child thought
just like
behind the television?

***

***

the child
had
a magnifying glass
she used it in the sun to turn paper brown
red embers then flames

***

on dry sandy soil
child traced
patterns with a stick
happily
all day

***

the child
made
puppets
she pulled
their strings

***

***

“keep out”
the notice
said
the child opened up
the chain link fencing…

***

the child felt
she existed
somewhere
but not
in this world

***

***

each time
the child found a dead bird
she buried it in a cocoa tin
used lolly sticks for a cross
and said prayers

***

"Ready, come and find me"
child called
from her perfect hiding place
stiff legs, aching limbs
got up to look for her seekers but they'd gone

***

school playground
whistle blew
every child froze in their tracks
except the deaf girl
who carried on playing

***

***