tagNon-Erotic PoetrySound Of Music...

Sound Of Music...


Put on something...
soft and Gaelic,
tart and Celtic,
Indie magic, Rhythm and Blues,
ancient, new - whose dulcimer
tones flow - smooth and bittersweet,
hauntingly clear and ever so near.

Remind me of all the loves
ever known, had, touched,
and borne - wished, dreamed, found
and lost - moving, moved, held
within, 'til now released.

Play it low - though its ever
awesomely real and pure,
touching with cruelly
coolly fervid caress...
molding ever with my mind.

The rise is all the aerie peaks...
high-flyin' soul - majestic, enthroned
with view of emerauld heart
and heat ever growing,
gracing all there is,
and was, and will.

The falls are 'ever'-mores... moors'
dark and shrouded,
sweet-scented peats and beats.
Deep seated senses rush real
and reel and Reel
with twists and turns and
intricate movements fleet
that float to rhythms' flow
and heart's beat...
hearts bleats captured
and held and still.

The sweetest center - centered -
central (as home) - ever calling
how ever the roaming, wandering
minstrel tries and cries.
As though tied, bound with sound -
the thrust of tryst and trust
does fly and flay and cry 'til dies away...
ever a day - everyday - anyday...
anyway... as only it can, could,
would. Feel the wood winds
fly and flee free to be.
Their wood's wind melody -
melodies of harmonies -
twin and twine and 'tween
all there is ever to be...
all of me - part and parted, held
enthralled and thrilled
while trilled and drilled...
stilled with dreaming
just to be alive and me.

Play the mountain music -
earth tones, flats, sweet
psycho funk - rapt
with heat. Play it all
and let the living flow
as was always meant to be.
Then play it again
just 'cause you can.

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