Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

From insanity’s unsleeping eye.
undreamable storms of blood and death,
on blacked-out nights, we stole away–
we knew the way–to Boscobel.

Guilty of forbidden beer and cigarets,
swam blindly to its shadow tower,
its reality somewhere, a permanence unseen,
found, mounted ladders, lost count of steps,
dared and dove, proving faith, into darkness,
into nothing, starless space,
the lake’s black water.

It will be there, we knew, will wait,
the war, knowing we must come.

Invisible, that water,
but something to count on.
Something to believe.

Jim 8/23/09 (Boscobel: a lake with wooden diving tower far out. Adolescents: boys, almost old enough for World War Two.)

"..dared and dove, proving faith, into darkness,
into nothing, starless space,
the lake’s black water"

These lines are so powerful.
This is more than good stuff Mr. Turner.
H

One of your best poems, Jim.

Difficult for me to read poems about war, but I am grateful I got to read this one.