Categories
Poetry

Fall

Months have come and went,

time left and spent.

Moments of eternity and bliss,

here now to witness.

A blink as blue skies,

turn grey in old eyes.

Bells have began their knell,

and leaves have all but fell.

Hold on,

cold song,

I long to live.

Categories
Poetry

Oh.

The wind blows

where does it go

nobody can know.

The river’s flow

topples like dominoes

through the meadow.

Out the window

of the small chateau

grows

an old willow.

Categories
Poetry

The Soloist

The soloist closes their eyes and leans in to play their instrument,

an intertwined movement as the musician and their tool becomes one.

An ever so subtle look of one who loves to that which is intimate,

knowing the bond that is formed now may never be undone.

The dance is bittersweet as the moment has already began to fade,

a beautiful sight with the undertones of a melancholic symphony.

Even though the house lights stayed a lit and the music swayed

the musician could see the end coming of this moment so vividly.

This temporary music spreads out into infinity,

where all is left is the memories.

Notes and undertones that almost approach divinity,

where all is left is the reveries.

The house lights went out, the musician left gasping for air.

Every delicate sensation overwhelmed but they didn’t care.