Pendle Whispers by Paul Kelly - Lancashire Poetry
PUBLISHED: 14:01 20 January 2010 | UPDATED: 16:30 20 February 2013
A poem by Paul Kelly
The powerful stones stand rigid,
spines erect, muscles bulging.
Dark custodians of inner torment,
eager to quell inquisitive ears.
Silent postures, screaming defiance,
as growling wind howls contempt.
Sometimes a sporadic sound escapes,
revelling in its new found freedom.
A muted cry for salvation.
A gut wrenching scream of agony.
A repetitive mantra, rising in tempo.
Burn the witch! Burn the witch!
Each time it dies suddenly,
reclaimed by a gritty sinew.
Stifled, smothered, suppressed.
Dispatched to a crevice,
replete with black secrets.
Wedged in a cavity, dark as pitch.
Malevolently entombed in limbo.