Notes....

Floating in a golden sea of sound....

Silver is the rain and the sighing of the flutes....

Drums for the thunder.

Trumpets sounding, with horns colliding, furious their clashing;

Lightning, hurled from the heavens.

So for music, and the soundings of the storm.

Sun shining,
kissing the falling rain,
ripples in a rainbow pond.

Willows,
their hearts are sore,
hair trailing in the clear water.

Sunset,
My heart and I,
alone with our thoughts
and the sighs of the willows.

Heartbreak,
an old sorrow, dulled
by the years and by beauty
and by pain.

Now,
Sharp as shards of
shattered glass, the pain returns
as rollers breaking, over
my life and the span
of years.

And all is grey,
as sand in an ashfall,
as the corpse of a flower, in
the small morning light; as her eyes,
framed in tresses of midnight black,
skin dark and cold as Stygian ice,
as I close them, and kiss her,
once, for memory, twice for
love, a farewell, by the
shadow of the
grave.

And I left her, to be buried, alone in her grave.

And I wept, there, by the pool, in the glade, with the sighs
of the willows a consort to my sorrow, under night and
the light of the stars.

In summer,
I used to run, and
curse the heat. And swim
in the cool waters of the pond.
No more.
For the colder months are coming in,
and winters knocking on the door,
with summer shuffling out the
back. And I welcome old
winter in.

Joy, profoundest of
sensations! Ah! To be
lifted on the crest of
surging bliss, to be
graced with the comfort
of quiet euphoria, come
after a day spent in labor,
and finding the simple
comforts of home awaiting.
Joy, profoundest of
sensations!

A girl I once saw,
and her eyes were
green as the grass
in springtime, and
her face was soft,
innocent,and fresh,
and yet her eyes were
cold and distant, and
in them were distance,
and an apathy to swall-
ow the world. She was
broken and harsh and
silent and alone.

And I loved her.