Thursday, October 26, 2006

Poetry Thursday

Back by popular demand here is another of Rose's poems. If I may say so, it is a perfect description of Rose who is always viewed as so quiet and expressionless by people she doesn't know well.
A Song of Myself
The notes all twine together, forming into song
And though the beat keeps going, the melody seems wrong.
The major chords are cold, boring, distant at their core
But if you listen longer, you may hear something more.
Almost nonexistent against the unmarked tune
There’s a trill of something different making its debut
Maybe a quiet laugh or a glint in the eye
Then it disappears as if awaiting a reply.
And if you sit quite still and listen hard so you can hear
The notes will play again, this time with some good cheer.
At first it just repeats as the volume starts to climb
But the right kind of listener knows that good songs can take time.
Then the pattern starts to change and the rhythm will increase
As we begin to come to the crescendo of the piece.

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