The sound of harmonizing guitars fills my dreams, a sound to eternize in my memory. Their duel of fancy is poetry sounded in the chalet of pressing bodies. Feet slap the floor to the sound, in the familial dance of human experience. The murmer of voices are impuissant when faced with the strength of those strumming guitars. Cars whizzing through the slush announce the departure of those with faces trapped in a cavalier facade. For the rest, the music sublimates the reason of the mind, driving out thought like the sound of breathing in the night. The doggerel of the world is left at the door and the snuffy exterior of life is quickly forgotten. Only the music remains, its meaning an elusive longing, and the desire to dance until the sun drives out the shadows.
Using random words and sounds, 2 poems were born. Quirky, but I like them.