Music lifts one up
It expresses what we feel
Fills our heart and soul
It can touch the world
Connect all of us
Communicate our story
Tell our history and future
It can paint a picture
With sound
It can calm us or excite
Causing us to dance
It inspires us
Sometimes it can make us laugh
It’s a mirror into the best of us
It’s healing and powerful
We need it
It is magic

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                     Rachel Weeping for her Children

This is spring

There should be inattention in class:
Summer plans for camping and for play
When each sunny day is a barefoot day
Splashing in the stock pond, annoying the cows

Instead of

Chain-link fencing, sagging gates, gunfire
Black rifles, screams, ambulances in lines
Yellow plastic tape, detailed narratives
Telephoto camera lenses, MePhones

And tiny little bodies plastic-wrapped
Carried one by one to refrigerated vaults


(Hey, stud, preach to them about your Second Amendment)

I just want to catch on fire
With the mountains around me,
But to leave that magnolia tree
By the green lake
With the reflection of Me.

liking rags
i move on
with differing
music

the trial by glass

Vocal ingenuity
A generous gratuity
I wish could be removed from me
But I would still write poetry

--Which someone else would have to read
As from the page the inkblots plead
"Give us a voice!" the letters said
Without a voice they would be dead

But no-one reads my poetry
And so its voice is left to me
To show the World, or just to try
Be truly heard before I die

as the clock on the wall
like the leaves in the fall
caterpillars grow into butterflies
but your change only soaked my eyes

You changed
as the day into night
turned black from all white
women like a pink sunset
but your change left me with regret

You changed
like the ocean tide
as a carnival ride
kernels turn into buttery popcorn
but you only left me in scorn

You changed
from spring to winter
from a mahogany table
to a flat board of splinters
in spring flowers bloom
but your change left me little room