scrape against string
until bow has cleaned
its waxy tongue
with slow licks that sound
like woman’s sorrow
a quick file against a fret
and children’s laughter leaps
from bowl belly
a hymn of heart
plies its passion
like rain to thirsting field
a dirge is drawn
from dark depths
with such grief
it causes graves to open
for a moment’s misery
revisited
what holds bow
and bends to move us
is drawn by divine hand
it is made to sing
like angel’s clear cry,
scratch on dry throat
like creation’s cacophony
flows to ear
like love’s language
meant to heal heavy hearts
A contest entry
- 48 Hour Contest!!!!!!!!!!! by Celticmoon.
300 points, ended June 25, 2007, 11 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
YOur words flow like beautiful music within this piece. I can hear the soft hum of your words traveling through the air as I read this piece. Thank you for entering and good luck!
Blessings
celticmoon
-
A Concerto :)
"a dirge is drawn
from dark depths
with such grief
it causes graves to open
for a moment’s misery
revisited"
Beautiful Music!
~ Nicholas ~
-
this is wonderful, sounds like a Stradivrius here, or the Red Violin, growls and lilts and carries the range of emotions of the human heart...so well very done...PK
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"with slow licks that sound
like woman’s sorrow"
Ahhh, gorgeous, my Friend...I've heard it, too...Good luck in Bel's contest, Sweetie... Wanda
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