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Lyda M Sourne Dec 2018
Pristine white,

Like cathedral spires,

Pierce the skies



There is longing,

For the sky blue

Expanse above



Can you not see?

The love, the yearning



There is so much more

Than what this world

Can offer to one such as you



‘Tis pleasant,

A wonder of quiet

and harmony



Who do you offer

Music to?



Oh, love,

How lovely it

Is to meet you



Overflowing,

One cannot comprehend

Such beauty



And these days

Are golden and light

With the fluttering

Of your love



In the form

Of soaring melodies



Alas!
Beethoven Violin Concerto, Op.61 - second movement
Carson Hurley Apr 2017
The way the piano called into the night,
it wept and danced and moved like
the birch trees brushed by the wind.
The silver of the tree's caught the moon
which smiled,
an unexpected cluster of teeth proved
to the world that there really is a man
in the moon.
Kerli Tulva Oct 2020
One night the wind walked
amid the silvery clouds
singing in choir with the stars
swaying the trees and marking
the love's path in the lunar gardens.

Transparent terrestrial plains
called the mountains to sing
while the snow slid larghetto
to trace the glazing route with love's
cabalistic path till the lunar gardens.
Lung's heaving,
Breath trapped in treacle pools.

Lake blue lips, quince skin -
Larghetto drowning.

— The End —