1. Gabi Krukenberg

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The poem is written by my husband Roger J Tayler, who gives his agreement to publish his work online. I have produced a series of images interpreting his poem, the one I attach sums up the essens of the poem. I used a Nikon F80, Ilford HP5 film, the original is a lith print printed on Kentmere Kentona (ols emulsion) [url=http://www.krukenbergphotography.co.uk]Gabi's website[/url] DREAMS I’m running Through sand dunes and swishing maran grass And hear Joyous sounds of children shrieking, In the wildest game of Chase. If they catch me, I’ll be “It”. I’m tumbling, Laughing, Falling The sand is wetter now, Hard ridged and furrowed by the tide, There are no childish voices now, Only tragic calls of seabirds. I run for my life: Legs pumping, Heartbeats deafening, Pursuit is ever closer. I turn my ankle, Fall I’m on a pier: Squeals of girlish terror from the Ghost Train, Cacophony of light and noise, Gaudy sideshows – All the fun of the fair. A Wurlitzer wheezes into “I do like to be beside the seaside” And I’m seduced to a smile By the smell Of toffee apples and candy floss. Then the Laughing Sailor vents his mirthless roar, I leap in fear And start to run again, Followed by the all too obvious stares Of invisible eyes. I brush aside The feet that trip, The hands that grab And Passing actors and anglers, Oblivious to all but their lines, I reach The end of the pier Where the sky and the sea become one – Not blue, but grey – A tombstone That bears my name. I dive and break the surface, But there is no splash. The ocean vastness assumes the form – Not a sea, But a hemisphere – A human eye. The great eyelid opens to reveal An evening lake’s serenity Between sunset and night. Another blink- It is dawn. Roger J Tayler 2007