Emily Keverne – Poem – 6

Goodnight
by Emily Keverne

My dreams have been so dark of late. In truth
A nightmare holds me, every night the same.
If I could find some meaning, hidden proof,
To manifest what’s latent in my brain
Perhaps, then, it would end – this nightly toil
To reach the morning’s light, unscathed, unharmed.
Perhaps, then, it could pass: a night unspoiled
By broken images and strange alarms.

So real it seems, so unerringly true:
A door is opened, danger lurks behind.
Then to morning’s light I wake and rue
That dreams cannot so easily rewind.
A madness it may be, but one that I,
For my dear parents’ sake, shall not confess
As tiring though it be – I sleepless lie! – 
The trouble is my own. Let others rest.

Alone in darkness, then, to fight it out.
Before me pen and paper: let me think.
This is the crisis, one without a doubt
To push the sanest person to the brink.
I feel it building, this will be the night
When I shall know the door, when I shall see
What comes for me – shall draw in to the light
This mystery and, wakeful, I shall be

A master of my dreaming. I shall grasp
The meaning from my memory. I’ll recall
My wayward phantom fragments, conscious gaps,
And, with this jigsaw puzzle, conquer all!
Beside the lamp light, blanket-wrapped, I sit
With head by pillows cradled. Now I lie
With paper half-forgotten – sleep has flit
Unwatched for over me, and I slip by.

To sleep, perchance to dream – or so it’s said.
To sleep perchance to question and reply.
Within my world of dreams, upon my bed,
I dream a living dream, perchance to die.
A door is opened, knives and shining eyes
Creep stealthy through the house, we unaware.
Inside my dream we sleep, deep lullabies,
As death comes stealing softly up the stairs.

***

Emily Keverne is a part-time writer from Cornwall, Britain. Emily studied at the University of Plymouth, receiving a BA in English and an MA in English and Culture, and she has had one poem published online as Café Aphra’s Poem of the Month.