"eloped" poems
I come to life when you touch me
Fluent & continuous.
You've unzipped my lips and tossed
them to the side.
I've never fallen &
been caught so freely.
I've never paid attention to how
flat the world really was.
A jagged peninsula
Eloped in oceans embrace
Curved in explosion.
Sometimes it feels like I am
Drowning.
I've never paid attention to how
flat the world really is
Chipped off, covered by you
falling deeper into you
Jun 11, 2022
Jun 11, 2022 at 6:38 PM UTC
Are you struck with her figure and face?
How lucky you happened to meet
With none of the gossiping race,
Who dwell in this horrible street!
They of slanderous hints never tire;
I love to approve and commend,
And the lady you so much admire,
Is my very particular friend!
How charming she looks — her dark curls
Really float with a natural air;
And the beads might be taken for pearls,
That arc twined in that beautiful hair:
Then what tints her fair features o'erspread -
That she uses white paint some pretend;
But, believe me, she only wears red
She's my very particular friend!
Then her voice, how divine it appears
While carolling: "Rise gentle moon;"
Lord Crotchet lastnight stopped his ears,
And declared that she sung out of tune;
For my part, I think that her lay
Might to Malibran's sweetness pretend;
But people won't mind what I say —
I'm her very particular friend!
Then her writings — her exquisite rhyme
To posterity surely must reach;
(I wonder she finds so much time
With four little sisters to teach!)
A critic in Blackwood, indeed.
Abused the last poem she penned;
The article made my heart bleed —
She's my very particular friend!
Her brother dispatched with a sword,
His friend in a duel, last June;
And her cousin eloped from her lord,
With a handsome and whiskered dragoon:
Her father with duns is beset,
Yet continues to dash and to spend —
She's too good for so worthless a set —
She's my very particular friend!
All her chance of a portion is lost,
And I fear she'll be single for life;
Wise people will count up the cost
Of a gay and extravagant wife:
But tis odious to marry for pelf,
(Though the times are not likely to mend,)
She's a fortune besides in herself —
She's my very particular friend!
That she's somewhat sarcastic and pert,
It were useless and vain to deny;
She's a little too much of a flirt,
And a slattern when no one is by:
From her servants she constantly parts,
Before they have reached the year's end;
But her heart is the kindest of hearts —
She's my very particular friend!
Oh! never have pencil or pen,
A creature more exquisite traced;
That her style does not take with the men,
Proves a sad want of judgment and taste;
And if to the sketch I give now,
Some flattering touches I lend;
Do for partial affection allow —
She's my very particular friend!
15.3k
She was my lover all night
sensual perfection we held each other tight
We eloped into our anechoic room
Escaping the world I was her groom
I kissed her slender feet and hands
The only thing wrong she was married to another man
Honeymoon in Singapore
It was unplanned but meant to be
I wonder if she still remembers me?
Housewife and mother of two
Sinful synchronicity rendezvous
On vacation when we met
Our lust was hot and so very wet
We kissed and bared our souls
Hard and soft in loves loft we rolled...
Honeymoon in Singapore
His wife was my bride tonight
we both cried in the morning light
We were one in flesh she took off her wedding dress in wanton caress
The only thing wrong she was married to another man!
Honeymoon in Singapore
It was unplanned but meant to be
I wonder if she still remembers me?
True story of a *** lustful night with a pretty married ultra exotic Chinese-Filipina girl in Singapore
Oct. 2009
Singapore is the microcosm of urban perfection
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Thousands of electric pulses
scattered in confusing patterns.
Imagination convulses,
tattered, mind under matter.
Enveloped by space and time,
pardoned by neither,
eloped by both.
Pacing.
Shooting from the hip,
mind's eye is blind fire,
pawing through the labyrinth,
waiting for the shift.
Hopeless.
Blunder.
Shocks.
Over.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
Breeze bellows,
leaves echo in
quivering psithurism,
dithering like
unbroken smoke,
this approaching omen goads.
Dozing crows
slumbering in rows,
droves of locusts'
silenced drone,
almost comatose in repose;
nighttime overtones
choir of toads'
raspy croaks
answered by alto
of crickets' orchestral strokes.
Gust encroaches;
robed boughs
cloven open,
bring into
scope and focus
me juxtaposed,
suspended apropos.
Although motionless
and petrified in stone,
provoked by zephyr
coaxing to and fro;
swaying pendulous
and no longer frozen,
locus gently thrown.
Death rattle moan
evoked from throat,
reflex can't say no
to rigor rigidly posed,
final sigh in silence,
awoken vocal,
expelled and disposed.
Smote by
morose emotion,
gun loaded then exploded
by neurosis,
now bloated
necrosis decomposes
into gross ochre.
This trophy
and this ode
both an opus to
my inability to cope;
romanced i proposed,
eloped and betrothed to
my own
inappropriate composure.
Pocket full of posies
plucked when luck bestowed
and tears in a cup, a toast;
crying copiously,
tempest runneth overflowed,
eyes swollen and soaked.
Dipped my toes
in the coast
of this ocean's
amorphous folds,
gripped by undertow
holding control of my soul;
swiftly shipwrecked in
shallow shoal,
an old atoll.
On sandy floor,
water burrows roads;
digging, carving, roams
through unmarrowed
silica and sandstone
eroding into a cove.
A host for
opal geode trove,
enclosing a
technicolor rose,
from the depths
a glowing mosaic shone
Unopened lotus floats
on foam
of lapping waves,
a boat;
prone to no
grandiose notion
or motive,
adrift as wind stokes.
I suppose
this only shows
the total corrosion
into which I dove,
the only foes to oppose
are those of burdens, so
only weightless can I atone-
I must let go.
Mar 11, 2024
Mar 11, 2024 at 11:02 AM UTC
Bare feet
Teared clothes
Eyes with tears
Consoling her fear
She was *****
Broken and burned
Still people taped
Her parents told her
You'll be not married
Nor have kids
It's better to be silent and mild
Her voice being shivered
Shouted! If my words
Will not shout
Rapists voice will be loud
World will make me choose
Tough honor or life
I have nothing to loose
Nothing to loose
People may refuse
May repel my voice
But i being robbed
And justice is what
I wanna eloped ♥️
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 12:36 AM UTC
I see your hand waver, now you're faced with a ghost,
not the raw, killer features that were nailed to a post.
Just an old, dying cowboy, trying hard to play host.
There's a chair if you've mercy, and a story...come close.
The liquor of youth lights a fire in you, son.
Puts that flame in your eyes and the heat in your lungs.
I wore that expression, before your thread was spun,
so let me unload, you can shoot when I'm done.
Growing sore in my saddle as the nag became lame,
I sold off my shooters, then re-mortgaged my name.
But tease out the creases, we're exactly the same;
two felons of fortune, wanting someone to blame.
See, I never got settled, didn't take me a wife.
Sailed a ship in a bottle, on the edge of a knife.
I put stock in misfortune and invested in strife,
took diminished returns, paid no interest to life.
But corralling cattle won't hold them for long,
they're born to roam free where they know they belong.
Soon the lipstick and whiskey begins to taste wrong,
as the backroom piano sighs its monotone song.
By a tangerine sunset I scraped off my boots
and considered an orchard as it set down its roots.
As a buzzing of insects idly nurtured its fruits,
I was deafened by silence. My own garden was mute.
So I clutched at the earth as I fell to the floor,
to ask for forgiveness, as you darkened my door.
Seems redemption's eloped, like a gold digging *****
Just a name on a tombstone, for a few dollars more.
Quite an end would be fitting for a fool so innate,
who has squandered his years until the hour is late.
Son, unholster your weapon and wipe off the slate,
I beg execution, swift vengeance, But wait...
Did I catch my reflection as it fell from your face?
Like a hound in a heatwave, too tired to give chase?
Son, the trail that you're riding is easy replaced.
You can stand in the sunlight, or come sit in my place.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
At age six you bought me a pretty lady doll
I remember your anger
The day I married her to another lady doll.
At age sixteen you bought me a beautiful dress
I remember your anger
When I asked for a suit instead.
At age twenty six you b(r)ought me a husband
I remember the day so clearly even now
It was the day I eloped with my girlfriend.
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
Turbulence of displaced warmth.
A shiver hooking limbs
with the lure of touches promised
by sultry eyes
now
closed to the world for the night.
Exiled
from mind.
Seduced by fatigue.
Your lover eloped with a dream
leaving you behind
to walk alone along the stair to the kitchen
and the dinner abandoned there
because of her promise.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
*In deep psychedelic trance
his companion painted
canvases that mix past,
present and future, factually
as quantum physics would vouch;
all of it co-exists, don't turn
a blind eye, it's not fair.
"There is more past here
that try to unseat future,
than the presence of present,
we would make reality sleep
won't believe in its patented lies,
we'd create a present,
in its fantasy, see the future"
The narrative is pictured as fallows:
The Cat and the Mouse
stopped their games,
they invented as a past time,
and also serious business.
Lucky prince befriended
a happy pauper.
The beauty beguiled
the friendly beast,
both eloped and
lived happily somewhere.
The bored king hugged
the leader of the coup
"I was dying
to abdicate at the earliest,
you were my last hope,
good riddance" he yawned,
sounding like cockerel.
He looked much relieved;
uneasy is the head
on which a crown sits
like a ****** politico
at the moment of election result.
The painter watching
what is going on said:
"Well, the colors I selected
this far, were all wrong.
Now, I am going to look twice
before I decide"
But when she worked
on her imagination
her manifesto was thrown out,
she was far more spontaneous
there is the rub.
Can't say, whether
the philosopher was pleased or not,
one can't definitely tell
he only smiled and hurried back to
catch the last bus he missed.*
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
When I reached in to clean off the glitter on your face,
Did your throat ache because of the unheard voice?
When I said: relax I won't kiss you
did the unheard voice say: "I wish you would!"?
This then music that was denied
All the times I didn't touch you,
did you shiver and get chills?
Did my wondrous breath caress your hairs then?
Did your follicles once wake?
Leading to yawning pores
Inviting the warmth,
of a touch, and the moist excretion of the connection
thereof
And your dry lips with lines dividing symbolizing the walls of your soul yet to be broken
and your bright eyes when the right words are spoken
Or the nerve-wrecking look that had me choking
I was myself and I truly was, maybe you thought I was joking
Was it the distance or questionable persistence?
The fear maybe, that had you critical of what you should feel
Perhaps the vicissitudes of fate that have a stationary couple reel
Or the gravity of occurrences, where I had to keep up appearances
Maybe just you. Maybe just me. Or the doubtful We.
In all reason; logical to think that perhaps the feel
that keeps me away from you
and you feeling like a slave when with me
if you believed and trusted, we could have eloped
Escaped the prison of doubt and insecurity, uplift the hope
Use the ladder of surrender
climb down the 'chance' rope
and then we'd elope
But you stayed with the other guy who says what you want to hear
who drives the car that has them cheer
who sports a profile that gives him credit
Never minding your heart's merit
I leave and enter the wild
I am a wolf from afar
And a die-hard romantic at heart
These are the melodies that live on
Unsung hymns of love lore
May they be heard deeply and penetrate as the sound of spores.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 11:46 AM UTC
**There once was a poor cowboy,
Who had one Horse and a Cow toy.**
But, one summer day
The Horse eloped away!
At the Cow's back and left the cowboy.
#Limerick
Kikodinho Alexandros
Jumeira,Dubai
23rd November2016
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
Pencil lapsed over paper, strokes struck blank.
Curves raced up and down the stairs, lines longed to curve.
Loops eloped to a wedding
Spirals sprung out,
Dashes dashed,
Crosses squares with circles
Triangles jumped over rectangles
Ovals wove throughout
Dot was left to point out
The empty blank around him
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
Your cruel crimson lips
Blood dripping from your finger tips
My love a shattered work of art
The result of my broken heart
Splatters of scarlet hope
Mark the sheets where we eloped
My love a discarded virginity
The result of my mistaken affinity
Garnet was the decadent shade
Of the dress that veiled my vestal glade
My love a slippery hemline
The result of my relentless pine
The rusty curls on your head
Delivered me willingly into the bed
My love a handful of tangled hair
The result of my wanton affair
The flowers he sent were red
Reluctantly, I told him you were dead
My love a half-hearted lie
The result of my wandering eye
A ring offered, of ruby and gold
Silver is better, but I was sold
My love a rehearsed song
The result of my doing wrong
A burgundy kiss for a charming knight
A wedding of chastity white
My love a perfected role
The result of my injured soul
An artificial cherry-flavored ***********
Sloppy second copulation
My love a feigned first
The result of my unquenched thirst
The sheet is stained with merlot
Out with the trash, then he will never know
My love a memorized line
The result of my spilled debaucherous wine.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 2:53 AM UTC
It’s in newspaper ads, and on T.V,
Pasted everywhere for us to see.
A new entertainer in town, they say,
Giving a performance before going away.
Who is it this time, I wonder,
Who is it that people go to with a cheer?
It’s a ventriloquist, a puppet man,
He’s supposedly made everyone his fan.
And so it was to see the show I went,
It was a boring life’s escapade, godsent.
Robby Rob, was his name,
This name so engulfed in fame.
He was spectacular, and really good,
Now everyone’s excitement I understood.
There he was on stage,
About twenty five years of age.
He and his puppet, joking, laughing,
To everyone happiness he did bring.
Then the show was done,
He left with a smile on his face,
We had had our share of fun,
While he and his puppet left in grace.
How happy he looked, how content was he,
He seemed to be satisfied and filled with glee.
But, who knew what was really happening,
In his life from the beginning?
For in his room,
So full of gloom,
The ventriloquist was a different person,
One who looked glum and devoid of fun.
Who knew, that he was an abandoned orphan,
Who had struggled for obtaining a bun?
Who knew, the problems in his life,
His heart cancer, his huge bank debt, his eloped wife???
The lifeless puppet, his only friend,
The only one who’ll stay till the end.
As he sheds his tears,
One falls near his puppet’s eye,
And as he is filled with his ever growing fears.
Along with him his puppet does cry…
They hug each other, close and tight,
For them, nothing seems to be going right.
And yet, and yet, I walk home with envy
Thinking that the Ventriloquist’s life is happy and carefree…
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 10:09 PM UTC
ROBBED BY TIME
Once upon a time,
A friend in need at all times,
Time was such my best friend
And so we hopped till the end.
To my castle he'd come,
For he was always welcome
Any time he ever wanted to,
Something my queen loved too.
We'd ramble woodland paths together
As he reeled off one story after another,
All day long having a good time
Till when castle bells could chime.
Time was not of this world,
But a great war lord
Of a very far away land,
King unto the realm of fairy land.
He who had a novelty crown
Bestowed upon him by a fairy clown,
A crown not of gold but of palest silver,
A precious gem from the fairyland silva.
With lurve in the air one morning,
My friendship with Time died aborning
When he chose to do something frivolous
Just when the Sun's rays were so glorious.
Time emblazed my heart,
Something that didst hurt
When he smiled unto my wife,
Such a great shock unto my life.
He gravitated towards her after a deep sigh,
Like a whirlwind, my mind whirled high.
He thus gallantly asked her for a dance,
And was granted a golden chance.
Keenly I watched this flint-hearted boy,
Thought him skint but feared not nor coy.
With alacrity and in broad day light
Together they cwtched in delight.
He whom I always enjoyed with the wine,
There enjoying with a queen of mine
Whilst committing mischief;
This friend of mine such a thief.
Time whispered thus into my Queen's ear,
Whispers I could hardly hear:
Alas! He promised her the moon
For they'd eloped by noon,
To places strange I might never have a clue,
To where mortals have never dared walk to,
All the way to the realm of fairy land,
Such, such a very far away land.
©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
10th Aug 2016.
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
Close the curtains
On this last act
Call home the trains
Bring me back
Time has eloped
With my dreams
I've learnt to cope
On meagre means
Preach the truth
To he who hears
Dig up the roots
Bury your cares
Hide my letters
In an open box
Untie my fetters
Use all the locks
Life is a paradox
Running to its death
Watching all the clocks
To be the last one on earth.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 3:00 AM UTC
Little sapling growing between a rock and a hard place.
Weathering what life is surrounding you. No friends of yet
but you are only a sapling give it time. Moments passing
watching scenery elope to shifting seasons beauties.
Sea air invigorating as rain trickled from above dancing on
your now maturing leaves, tickling as each one weaved its
way down, like teardrops they descended on there journey
of life carrying on.
The Cliffside sighs, and teardrops of rocks descend,
woeful of those this motion that swept away, beauty
that clung silently there. The sapling is of branches
and leaves giving needed shelter to tired wings.
Seasons whisper by as the sun and moon dance above
her gaze. Roots delicately weave deeply into the Cliffside
keeping here steady, for if it were to sigh again her fate
steadfast in this place between a rock and a hard place.
Her leaves happened upon a blossom, so delicate in
its serenade of colour against the harsh rock face.
Like a parent when winds were bleak shielding its
frailty with branch and leaves, it only lost a petal this time.
She flowered in the seasons, blossom invigorated the
surroundings of what was bleak, like teardrops of love
for a time they painted vivid etchings on the Cliffside
till they faded nourishing those of lesser stature.
As she yawned on the morning rising above the
horizon, she felt motions upon her leaves.
Never in her time had she felt such gentle touches,
as palms glided over her foliage.
Feeling the breeze from up high, the cliffs edge she
had flourished in growth, now little eyes saw her
in full blossom as the seasons had changed.
Laughter ensued when gusts eloped with blossom.
Pink and light shades of magenta danced between
children, a fence keeping wondering thoughts safe
from the fallen dreams at the bottom of the Cliffside.
Leaves caressed the winds and she was content.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 8:06 AM UTC
The tomorrows can't come soon enough
And the yesterdays pass too swiftly
Differing between lies and love
Is a gift no longer with me
And still I cannot help
But look ahead until the day
When love's more than just a word
And finally I'm on my way
I still yearn to lay it out
Put my heart on the line again
To leave the places that I've traveled
And find the one I've never been
I'm restricted to running blind
But running nevertheless
Lest the pulse start to slow
And fade into nothingness
At times it seemed I'd never stop
And I was nearly giving in
No longer was I searching out
But content with places I'd already been
And suddenly there she was
Real and no mirage I'd hoped
I tried to reign my emotions in
But my heart already had eloped
To soon, it seems, to think these thoughts
But I confess I can almost see
Something real in her words
And the places that I want to be
Too soon to dream, common sense cries
Maneuver slowly round the bend
But as I open up my heart
I confess she's falling in
Where we'll go, I cannot say
I can only speculate
To continue on my way
And leave tomorrow up to fate
Mar 3, 2010
Mar 3, 2010 at 2:54 PM UTC
As the Nightingale sings...
His sweet song of happiness
Driven by bountiful liberation
Relieved from timeless crappiness
Fluttering, making a joyful noise
Trials to deprive him of craftiness
Surely fails at inflicting such harm
He sings gleefully, free of nastiness.
As the Nightingale sings...
His wrenching song of fear
Realizing his time can easily fall
At any moment danger may appear
Songs of melodic screechy whistles
Alerting of predators lurking clear
He's hurt, used to frequent viewing
His kin die, for each he sheds a tear.
As the Nightingale sings...
His sensual song of passion
Strong vocals of desired courtship
Refusing to share his ration
With many rivals upon his branch
Alluring females with his attraction
Mating rituals commencing in love
His plumage thrives in new fashion.
As the Nightingale sings...
His saddened song of sorrow
Wishing for better times to come
Hoping to make it to the morrow
Living below a abundant food chain
With a short lifespan to borrow
Singing til his last breath is breathed
Eloped to heaven, a angel he follows.
© Michael P. Smith
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
'Twas in the eventide of June
Whilst he didst lay in a pit of despair
When a lass fair as a silvery moon
Stately sailed his way as a zephyr
Yet majestically as drops of dew
Rollin' upon boughs of emerald fair.
Heaven's ever fair golden eye
Had sprinkled her very last ray
To pave way unto night maidens
That evermore bedight heaven's bay
With luster that in perpetuum gladdens
Naked eyes in a way i canst not say.
Radiant hope in his eyes shone bright
To potter beside a beauty queen
Whose eyes thrice brighter than light
Fair like as sails of diamond hewn,
Opalescent as robes of Sirius in the night
Whilst decamping at the fall of dawn.
Euphonious lullabies into her ear
Mellifluously he didst sing and sing,
For her to know she's all he did revere.
A fair diadem unto her he did bring,
For her to forevermore hold it dear
Queen unto him she's, and him her King.
But yonder stars in lone splendor
Coveted him and the beauty queen,
For her effulgence surpassed their luster
That as passes a fiend with eyes unseen
When the wind is hushed into slumber,
So did spy upon 'em with eyes keen.
Alas! As we all know naught lasts forever,
The looming veils of night began to vade
Whilst stars in a splendiferous cluster
Upon celestial shores coyly didst wend;
And his visage grew pale by dawns luster,
For far off with his queen they'd eloped.
©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angels, California, USA.
24th/09/2018
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 3:00 AM UTC
You thought you could spread your legs
to the first stranger who spoke your name,
but even then you were so ashamed of your skin,
the marks and scars of the body you were born in
that you eloped.
You never came back.
You asked what you had to do to be loved.
To be wanted.
It was all you've wanted.
The first boy whom you confessed to smiled, amused,
and asked, so?
It's the question you've been trying to answer all your life.
so?
Your first kiss was at eighteen, ugly and untouched.
He only wanted your body,
but you've forced yourself to think otherwise.
Oh, love.
It is so sad to live in your own body,
to watch him watch her,
watch her link her arm around you and starts
telling you about her problems
Problems.
oh, you had them too.
but you were just a listener,
with ears always, always open.
you felt like a mute. your mouth filled with sand.
Do they know how much you love yourself?
You did.
You had to.
You were trying, but no. You were not enough.
At night he is always there, in your bed.
Your brother, i mean. Whispering how much he loves you.
But in the morning he is gone
and you have not seen him ever since.
This does not make sense.
No, no more questions.
Nothing will ever make sense.
Today, you texted a boy who used to love you,
and when he didn't text,
you nodded to yourself.
it's alright. you expected this. be calm. don't panic.
your friends call you the queen of sarcasm, of loudness.
Some asked why you were always so depressed.
Depressed. Empty. Sad. Vulnerable.
It's all you've ever been since the day
you saw the front door close behind your father.
Since the day you left your own country.
But your days no longer revolve around your mother's sadness, or your father's violence.
And you are too old now. No more lighting candles. No more days of fresh hotel sheets and smells of sunscreen.
In December, a boy confessed he liked you.
You didn't want to choose him because you were lonely.
And when you wanted to choose him
because you were lonely, he was not there.
You thought if he comes, you would give him all your love.
All the yellow light you've been hiding in your heart.
You wanted simplicity. Love and his eyes.
Stop, this is getting too long.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
p to the a to the p to the e.
r,c, to the l,i,p.
paperclips, lets do the nasty. just kidding.
oh, staples you gave me a container of colorful paperclips.
1,000 and 100% guaranteed.
grassy green, ocean blue, pretty in pink, **** yellow, white noise, period red.
you hold my papers together through any bad weather.
you bend in shapes and ways that no other kind of clip can.
hair clips, banana clips, hair flips, cool whip can't do what you do.
you were born in china before you ended up in staples and eloped with that plastic bag to my room.
oh how you stay connected to my papers like elmer's glue.
oh how you always stay true.
you're not as big as mr.giant clip in norway but you still do to trick.
together forever, you make my papers stay stacked thick.
your loopy body, your metal composition, i can make you twist in any position.
sometimes you're as fake as plastic but that's why i always got metal by my side.
you're thin and can be unfolded with little- little force.
paperclips, you'll always be in my heart and in my room, of course.
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 4:05 PM UTC
The beautiful hum matching the soft tone of the music.
As the records spins, the world passes on.
Night and day rise to the blossom of life.
Roses sprouting the colors to the world.
Days opens up with rays of light to match the soft stroke of the key of music.
Night's low hazy light glistens the dark air with the low humming a the music.
Tunes creatures mumble tunes but to be only swallowed by the rustling wind that captures their soft spoken tune.
It flows echoing through the pure, sweet air.
Hum the tune of your beat that marches your life.
The grand dance has eloped us in journey of love and life that flows into the grande white ball room.
Dancing on the endless rotation of the black disk.
Revolving round and round.
We spin n spin hearing that same tune clash with new ones.
Melodies spin with life, the tune we love dances with us.
Embracing us as we spin endlessly on the musically sound.
We bound to listen everyday as nature blossoms and fades away.
Beats of soft strokes of the needle begin to slow the dance.
Give one last mighty twirl.
See the world of beauty and horror one last time.
Hear the tempo of the tone you danced all this way.
As you twirl, taking your last step.
Tears roll down your face with a smile gleaming on your lips as you raise your head at the world fading to a blur of light.
Pure rose petals falling on the records black disk.
Time has come where the musical tone is..
Slowing down..
Growing quieter by the moment..
Slowing fading to nothing...
The needle lifts up.
Emptiness and quietness fills the grand ballroom.
The silence was broken as It's arm with a point glides slowly over a new black plate.
A new tune is played as it lays on top of the old.
Music flows with the new and the old.
Night and day blossom to a new world and journey.
New roses are born.
As goes for the music.The records never stop rolling.
Neither does the dance of the beat of what we call life..
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 4:14 AM UTC