The prisoners

The prisoners

A Poem by Bryan Sefton

A child in a sculptures world.


He chipped and chipped and so revealed
The image that the stone concealed
My infant mind stood amazed to see
The beauty of the thing set free
That had lain inside for such an age
A prisoner in its sandstone cage

He'd pointed to the sandstone block
And told me, 'look! A little pup!
He looks so lost and all alone'
But all I saw was uncut stone
'He's seen you now, his eyes are wide
His tail is wagging side to side
Reach out and feel him lick your hand
Feel it, feel it, through the sand
Close your eyes, run your hand along'
And I thought I felt the puppy's tongue

'Be still young fellow. There, be still
I'll have you out of there, I will'
And so with skill of patience born
He cut around the puppy's form
First chipping here, then chipping there
He carefully cut away the lair
Till slowly there materialised
The high cocked ear, the eager eyes
Then finally it sat and stared
Awaiting of his masters word
It seemed to quiver in its glee
And eagerness to play with me
As if, with just a finger snap
It would be up and on my lap
I eyed the debris of its lair
And cursed the fiend who'd put him there

I looked at him, stood by the door
And asked him, 'are there any more?'
He looked around the many blocks
Of stone and said, 'there's something locked
Inside of every single one
Hidden away behind the stone'
He walked up to a larger piece
Said 'here's an Angel on her knees'
His hand ran over her rough stone cage
And in the feeling of it gauged
Exactly where she knelt and so
Knew precisely wherein to go
He smiled and went to make some tea
And left there in the heart of me
Pity for the beings captured there
And an ache for captives everywhere

© 2021 Bryan Sefton

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Added on January 12, 2021
Last Updated on January 12, 2021
Tags: Imagination.


Bryan Sefton
Bryan Sefton

Manchester, United Kingdom

Will think of something. more..