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 Oct 2016 Madi
Sarah
The bows out stretched, rising
   , falling
and the clarinet is singing her song
so low-
where the violins
avoid in veiled
soprano
and the basses
in bulk
like to go-

When I close my eyes,
I'm on a path
   and I'm walking
    and Tchaikovsky's notes sound like
      words-
  the timpani sounds like the
beating wings,
the tilted flight,
  the colony of bats
    in aviation slur

when fate keeps on
      knocking
and it's finally
    autumn first-
I am in the
mezzanine,
   and my response to
your andante's
unrehearsed

And you are there,
under composer
charm,
your aura blazing
ochre
I've found that
   everywhere
that I'm
  with you,
             is an
Orchestra's October.
Another day falling
from the crack of yesterday,

a patch of pearl
burning in the amber west
flaring up heaven
firing me up
in the pains of solitude
and poetry.

Home beckons through a dark way
where hope breathes eternal
as lanterns of moonlit leaves.

I won't mourn the loss
but fill all the void
with paper and ink.
 Sep 2016 Madi
Timothy Ward
and then
one day
my sky
really did fall
and life carried on
without
me
but eventually
i was helped up
slowly
dusted myself off
and i even learned
to smile
again
Life hangs by the thinnest of threads and relationships by the most brittle tendrils of trust. The most I can ask of myself is resilience
 Sep 2016 Madi
Christian Bixler
One morning fair, in the month of may,
I awoke afresh and laughed,
for it seemed to me that the time
had come, for a grand adventure,
and a merry day.

I ran down the creaking steps,
down the long and welcoming
stair, and when I came to stair-
wells end, I winded stopped to
rest.

But soon I rose and started on,
running on again, and running
now more temperately, I came
to the store apace.

I stocked my pack with bread
and butter, an apple and some
cheese, and as a welcome
afterthought, I added in some
bees.

I ran out the oaken door,
I ran across the lawn,
and entered in the beechen
woods, full flowered in
Kindly spring.

And I ran and sang, and lost
my way, all through that
laughing, gladden day, and
when at last I ventured home,
my parents were justly, quite
distraught.

But I lay in my bed, and smiled
and sang gladly in my heart,
for though to bed without
supper I'd gone, and my belly
was rumbling sore, I'd gone on a
merry, grand adventure,
and I'd had a merry day.
A poem about childhood, and about joy,
and how life should be lived.
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