A lot of separate sentences
joined together by the
fragile and insubstantial bond
of rhyme and some strange
and distant meanings

fragile as the stitching
between the cloths.
They can be broken and
torn by the cold and unshielded,
Winds Of The Mountain.

The mountain another wall.
Unmovable and dangerous.
Peril runs across the
several peaks.

As my breath catches
I lose grasp of my thoughts
and they wander to that which
I most attend.

The strings and bows never
cease or lose momentum
with the master Bach, command
and note join the mind to suit.

The Heart must stitch and
suit the mind.

GRAHAM MURPHY