Primeval Shadows Haunt Twilight Dusk Poem by Terence George Craddock

a mortal hears now a strange whisper whistle
sound with etching laugh murmur sighs sown
in between a vast sea time lullaby secret singing

to hear across ages surge tide all lost legends;

ancient all those lovely fairy tales whispered
on wave lips rush tide speaking the past the past
is hungry to speak to the present in a lonely dusk

gathering night on a remote beach by the sea;

as the power of day sunlight rays fades fades
into starlight sea journey possibilities twilight

is a time when common sense bright sunlight;

realities can morph into primeval shadows
twilight is haunting a nightmare fear in dark

psyche something is moving in darkness creeping;