by David Hollywood
- Part 1 -
Between a teardrop and the heart,
We sense our feelings weakened, mourn,
For sadness, as the tones impart,
A sound perceived, and now forlorn.
Opposing songs composed to ache,
Before their scripted, voices break,
Imagined dreams, enthralled to wake,
The haven, of the thoughts we make.
And moods and nerves elate in joy,
At hearing cherished tunes on high,
Amongst emotions yearned to lift,
The echo's of laments adrift.
- Part 2 -
And choirs excite with voices gift,
The words aroused, recited, wished,
Harmonic chants caressed and kiss,
Our serenaded dreams of bliss.
In music's flow, ascents are given,
Mortal words transcent to heaven,
Melodies enchant to draft,
Inflections of a dulcet craft.
Compassion soars, exhalted high,
As resonance inspires a sigh,
Contrite, unveiled we learn to die,
As passions glimpse our souls goodbye.
Last updated October 20, 2011