I heard your music
Off-key and beat behind tune
I still tapped my feet

His memories echo in yesterday's silence,
An abyss of agony singing in her wake,
Forgotten symphonies.

The chirp of a sparrow
The sibilant sound of a magpie robin
Cooing of the dove
A swish of light wind
The sound of the flow of a river
The harmonious buzz of bees
The rustling of flowers
An echo spreading over all quarters
The music of a cascade
The roaring of clouds
The calling of the seas
The sound of daybreak
The mysterious mutter in the dead of night!
The classic hum of my mum

Further down our rabbit hole
descending to free fall,
the abyss beckons
and there is no wonderland
(only the nine circles).
In these days of now,
dark waters (midst the mob
demanding justice done)
defends blade and bullet bearers
(bloodletting upon their own)
from the dam stemming the tide
of red rivers staining the streets.
We continue,
We continue,
ignoring the yesteryears,
and advance to soul oblivion
beyond our world's end.

James E. Roethlein ©2021

yestereve we succame
A lengthy ballad of longing
formerly one of obstinance
flared in a cacophony of passion

Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion,
yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts
as there was no doubt of desire
nor were there objections to her
for even when my affections consumed you
lady desire was just an inexorable

yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom
there went the pain
any semblance of grudge
along with sanity
reason
and lastly, walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's
such vulnerability unmatched
for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason
for reason, although safe,
is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad
and the first to fall victim to the cascade

What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands
or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad.
The way your upper lip curls when you grin
made my glissade blissful and passionate
Your flustered twirl
the very epitome of aubade

Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality
Your flustered face En L'air
Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony

A moment of unfiltered emotion
A heavenly ballad
so cruelly of yestereve.