A hushed expanse on the edge of dreams,
slipping from clarity to wakefulness
whispering surrenders to breathe, just breathe

fragments of tales forgotten, fading away,

sounds finely tuned, a bittersweet spell,
harmonising half thought

woven from threads of what could be,
sketches of a world adrift, untamed and free,
audible in its creation, profound in its plea
a depth of yearning, echoing, off-key,

an ethereal stage never closing,
clambering, unsolved,

laid out to the sea
nothing is lost in translation.

(https://graynicholls.substack.com/ for additional and exclusive poems)