john oconnell

john oconnell Aug 2010

A piano sonata
echoes
from the valleys
of a heart's
optimism,
in a night
winding down.

john oconnell Aug 2010

While celebrating
the late hours
in a silent, white
and sleeping village -

an Elizabethan Serenade
enchants a heart
playing solitaire.

john oconnell Aug 2010

A shot of music.

A shot of music.

A human voice -
a voice of Slavic magic
storms into
the dried out
wastelands
of my parched soul.

john oconnell Aug 2010

At last!

At last!

Cheerful notes flood

the heart's empty chambers

and encourage impromptu steps

in a momentary jig of joy.

john oconnell Aug 2010

Slate,

Slate,
brittle
and chipping away
at the edges -

like
growing
old!

john oconnell Aug 2010

The drums pound away

The drums pound away
as an army of associations
and disconnected thoughts
invade the, already seething, chaos
of my enduring self.

john oconnell Aug 2010

Your heart here

Your heart here
is like a beacon
guiding burdened mortals
from the surfaces of ever darkening waters
to the shores of a safe place of shelter.

For Marie Shine.