Call me crazy, but I hear music everywhere,
Everywhere.
The early morning birds belting out,
A wistful torch anthem in the dawn,
The cling-clang of knives and cutlery,
A concerto called breakfast being made,
The silvery twinkle of raindrops percussing on arid earth,
The swish of my scarf against my hair,
Staccato footsteps, left, right. Left, right,
(The rhythm so perfect, you wonder)
Tapping fingers on the desk,
A baby's laughter, lifting your heart right off your chest,
The scratching of pens over lifeless paper,
Prodding it awake.
The immaculate music of poetry,
(As the words prance and frolic around your tongue,
They press upon your white teeth like piano keys.)
The shrill serenade of love-drunk grasshoppers,
But my favourite music of them all,
Is the steady, deliciously measured cadence,
Of our heartbeat, reassuring us that we're still alive,
And still fighting,
Lub, dub. Lub, dub. Lub, dub.
And our breaths, swooshing through our windpipe,
(No flute can compare)
Strumming gently our vocal cords,
And our glorious, resonant voices,
Echo out from within our lips.
Call me crazy, but I hear music everywhere,
Do you?
Thanks for reading!!!
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NEPENTHE
PoesiaHi there! The word NEPENTHE means anything that induces forgetfulness of sorrow or pain. I, for one, believe that little things like smiles, my mother's comfort food and long walks are the best forms of nepenthe around. These poems celebrate the s...
