When Music Smiles

Your guitar

echoed over the ocean,

the melody you played

slow and beautiful,

timeless and flowing

like the small waves,

working slow magic,

only to vanish

with an essence of shore,

of time,

of us,

drawn to your music

for a brief and lively

dance,

waving farewell

in whitecap

whispers,

and you opened

your eyes

to find mine,

crossing the bridge to your heart’s chorus,

singing the harmony to your life,

and composing our love,

the song

that only stops,

but never ends.

Skipping

She stops

as all the other kids

run by.

She sees him in the doorway, a smile on his face,

watching them run.

She smiles at him and waves.

She runs and skips,

and he hears the scratch

of her heels on the sidewalk.

He chuckles,  remembers when

he too,

possessed that superpower.

He waves good-bye

to far more

than her fading image.

Though she doesn’t see,

he has no regrets,

and goes inside to the

ponderous ticking

of his dusty

grandfather clock.

 

*picture by Ethereal Mind at deviantart.com

Thoughts of You

Shadows on hills,

day’s end.

A persimmon sun sets

in the bosom of a verdant valley,

and the evening star stares

like a curious child at the

lone man walking the road

to darkness.

Your absence is cold space

beside me on

this solitary

twilight stroll.

I miss the glimmer

of your starry eyes.

I miss the skipped beat of your

excited heart.

I miss the anchoring tenderness

of your embrace.

I miss melting into

your kisses.

Your memory fades like a painting,

a haunting last note of a lilting melody,

a classic fallen from grace.

And once more, I’m reminded:

Love will not reciprocate what

she requires to live.

 

 

Chess

A powerful and poignant work, written by a 14 year old.

Poems and Petals


‘Neither will win’, the audience says

Now that the contest starts

For black men move without their heads

And white without their hearts.

‘And if one shall advance’, they said,

‘So much as one short pace,

His fellowmen shall shun him then

A traitor to the race’.

‘You wooden men give up the game,

For what are all these squares

But black and white and black again,

The pattern of your cares?’.

The chessmen quickened into life,

For love has conquered pride,

Those that were angry face to face

Are quiet side by side.

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The Empty Poet

He searched the floor of his life for more words,

but there were none.

In his day, he waxed quite elegant, his inimitable style admired

by all who attended the readings full of smells of coffee, sweat,

and too much perfume in close quarters.

The applause, while not thunderous, was engaged.

The conversations, while not stimulating, were polite.

“I liked that poem.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just did.”

“Thank you.” Sips coffee to indicate

the conversation’s over.

The microphone was no longer a beacon, but a flickering ghost light

in a dark theater.

The notebook paper and computer screens were all test patterns; nothing to see.

Nothing in them. Nothing on them.

My life isn’t over, but it seems to have run dry.

Was there really nothing left to say? Nothing that moved him? Touched his heart? Enraged him? Set him laughing hysterically?

Desperately, he mined for it, memories in black, oily sludge best left buried slipping in stringy fragments through his finger.

Feelings unrequited. Longings unfulfilled.

And now, the words have flown as well.

No feathers to fly, unfettered, they flee.

The skin dries as the words evaporate,

and the poet is now a husk of man.

Desiccated and empty, seeming all of a man, but containing nothing of him.

The pen slips from his fingers; the battery in the digital thing no longer holds a charge.

Change is forthcoming, but he will stand and remain, no regrets.

The memories are old, unrelenting, full of sharp rebuke.

He rises from kneeling in the sludge of his art,

As his husk dries slowly in the morning sun,

as the poet’s soul slips free.

#FridayFantasy – Denizen

An intricate and clever use of imagery and rhyme by Morgan on her BookNVolume blog.

Booknvolume

Denizen

Denizen of the Sullied Night,

Gazing Perpetually

With Diabolic Light,

Sing of Enticements

Wanton and Fair,

Intoxications Beyond Compare;

Denizen of Intrinsic Reign,

Watching spectrally

While Shadows Feign,

Incubus of Beauty,

Tempting concessionaire,

Proffering Intemperance as We Dare!

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~Morgan~
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Artwork found at: mmogames.com

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I Dream an Autumn Love

Sepia,

the last of the colors,

a dull revelry,

a thrumming, just beneath the surface,

heralds the dormant outdoors.

 

I see you in the blue and lavender shadows,

your hips swaying like dark wheat in a gentle breeze.

Your smile is shy and happy,

your lips, all the shades of honey.

I bend to sip them from your mouth,

and find the bittersweet taste of summer’s end

on the tip of your tongue,

and lose myself in sweet dreams

and bitter time.

And there is time to savor.

 

As the last leaves

break free to fall like spent stars

from their heavenly sockets,

I dream an autumn love.