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Making Music
Across the meadow
She sits still
Playing the cello.
A song so indulging and mellow.
Softest notes fade into your heart and fill...
She gathers no crowd
Save blades of grass
Who listen out loud
To the notes she will pass
Creating harmonious shrouds...
And as the sun
Shines off each string
And melody spun
She opens her lips to begin
To show she can sing as one...
*
But soon interfered
By a man so thin
Who said he could hear
The notes that had been
Grabbing his ear.
And asked to join in with his black violin...
Starting from scratch
The couplet sat down.
She started to catch
Her previous sound.
As he tried to match
In harmony every note from the ground.
Gliding his bow
Across every sharp
He managed to go
In line with her heart
Whilst both reached a flow
As night fell and left their sweet melody in the dark.
And through the night
Sharps and flats
Created a subtle light
Where they both sat
Engaging in melodic flight
Scaling emotional bridges and coming right back.
*
Back to the tune
Of their souls
And ever too soon
The night would unfold
And break into noon
Thinking these musical patterns were getting a bit old...
He trembled his left hand
Just slightly
And changed the progression
So quietly.
She played to her best and
Yet every chord that they made from then on was unsightly...
A simple slip
Set off a domino feel
As every shift
Tried so hard to conceal
All the notes unfit
But they'd lost all their rhythm and soon they would seal
*
Their own fates
Who would save grace?
With each second passed
Every sound they would make
Exponentially clashed
As they lost their poise
And realized at last
This music was noise...
