We danced amongst the stars that night
when joy had fallen far from sight
We danced under the sun so bright
And when all seemed lost, we held on tight
We danced to the music of hummingbirds
And we danced in the silence when there were no words.
We danced in the shadows of fear and doubt
And we danced when we questioned what life’s about
We danced amongst the evergreens
That posed for painters winter scenes.
We danced in the winters bitter chill
And when we danced our world stood still.
For that’s what love was meant to be
To find the dance when we cannot see.
To write a new song when the music stops
With lyrics that caress every tear that drops.
For when the rhythm changes and tempo slowed
We’re called to dance with the seeds we sowed.
For life is hard, there is no doubt
But Dancing through it, is what life’s about.
An old house I am led to -it is the symbol of
Memories in cobwebs - like those of old lost love.
A storehouse for so many things buried in my mind.
I open up its creaking door to see what I might find.
Lovely notes of music come wafting down its stairs
So poignant is its melody that my poor heart tears.
It brings to me the image of one afternoon
When I walked with someone in summer by the dune.
I listen to the tickling of the ivory
Picturing two people splashing each other by the sea.
The music now is drifting to me soft and low.
I see the setting sun. We’re bathed in crimson glow.
Beautifully and slowly the notes keep being played.
In the arms of my old Valentine rhythmically I’m swayed.
The keys of the piano now are pounding fast.
In the moonlight he and I are making love at last.
Finally the keys are played as if they were caressed.
And a bitter sweetness swells within my breast.
Slowly creeping up the stairs I go to learn the truth.
Who has played this long-time buried memory of youth?
On the old piano’s bench, I see an imprint lies,
And I think I can hear my phantom lover’s sighs.
Forgotten valentine, will you please return
And play again that melody of love for which I yearn?
For the Incurable Romantic Poetry Contest of Kim Morrison
In harmony that the angels hear
Sweet music of a Midnight Clear
With reverent voices, in joyful mode
A sacred song of long ago
A velvet night while stars appear
Old carols sung on captured ear
Around a piano, where candles glow
Outside the air, with breath of snow
A fireside, where flames enchant
Old memories, from lips recant
'Neath mistletoe, two lovers kiss
A soul renewed, a spirit lifts
Some lift their glass to make a toast
While others sing of Heavenly Host
Beneath a tree, the children guess
Then off to bed, with kisses blessed
In harmony that the angels hear
Sweet music about a Midnight Clear
Hearing talented young voices provides such pleasure
In our quest for America’s latest idol treasure
Next year the judging panel will not be the same
The man we love to hate will leave for bigger game
What will it be like without the infamous scowl
Of the Brit who tells it like it is -- Simon Cowell
“That was simply dreadful,” says he with a wry smirk
“You came off karaoke; it just didn’t work.”
Randy asks, "Yo, Dog, what's with the off-key pitches?"
Ellen’s there for laughs; she leaves us in stitches
Kara strokes her long, brown hair, bats her lashes too
Asks Casey to remove his shirt, flirts as he follows through
But Simon never offers consolation prizes
Contestants' egos crash down as their anger rises
If he tells Big Mike he sounds karaoke
We may find Simon adrift in the Okefenokee
Choosing a replacement will surely not be easy
Adam Lambert? Paula's return? Oh, it makes us queasy
Simon will be missed, the show will suffer ratings
Viewers may depart for loss of the man they’re hating
If I were to work a miracle I know what it would be
In selfish quest I'd ask to grow in someone's company
Then we could prosper sharing precious moments in life
If I could have the same children, I'd pray she would be my wife
I would treasure the ground she walks on, in joyous harmony
For before I requested this miracle, she opened my eyes to see
Many things we share, architecture and music are two
There's history and geography, she says binds me and you
But it's the music that cements us, especially with Queen
If I were to work a miracle, then this would be my dream
UNWANTED VIOLIN SOLO
She wrested notes from unwilling
And resisting rosined string.
The rhythm struggled to assert control
Over her strained and anxious soul.
Mother shushed her resisting offspring,
Father struggled with his watch’s mainspring.
Children twisted hair and faces :
All wished to be in other places.
Synopsis: The events in this poem never actually happened. I wrote this in a metaphor to
express what was going on at the time.
The stage lights up,
The curtains rise.
I raise my head,
And look in your eyes.
Sounds come through,
The music plays.
This song's for you,
You're in a daze.
The crowd is vast,
The fans are crazed.
You're leaving fast,
You looked amazed...
I keep on singing,
I don't understand.
Your ears are ringing,
I look at the band.
They're still playing,
I walk off stage,
Drop the mic,
I'm running for you,
And you look back,
You keep walking,
It feels like a smack.
I know you don't like it,
When i leave,
Pick up the mic,
And make you grieve.
There isn't much time,
At all anymore,
To see you be mine.
The music took o'er.
You couldn't take it,
Thats why you left.
I know I missed.
I know you planned,
And I ignored.
Now I'm banned,
From entering your door.
I finally catch up,
Tell you I'm sorry.
You give me a hug,
That night so starry.
I left the band,
We both kissed again.
I hope you understand,
I loved you more then.
So much of my life I spent doing wrong
If I could write music I would write a song
I have done things a man shouldn't do
These words are written for they are true
If you open your heart and look to the sky
Ask of the Lord then hear the reply
It won't come in words not words you can hear
It may come with a smile or fall as a tear
I found an angel said bye to my ghost
After I lost everything I gained the most
I found the Lord through the poems I pray
Sometimes it’s best to just give it away
I write out my words for they help me see
Simple is best for simple is free
Think of yourself just never think down
Your mind holds the music just listen to the sound
Everyone you meet has something to say
Be sure to include them in the prayers that you pray
All that you do and all that you see
Shares in your story and your destiny
When dealing with others do what you do
Just be kind and gentle to those you do it to
Everything is nothing that it shouldn't be
As a seconds a second and a tree is a tree
Jean Valjean was a bad convict
With Javert he had a conflict
For nineteen years the con went to jail
When his plan to steal bread was a fail
When he got out, he was ignored
He was by the people abhorred
A bishop welcomed him with open arms
Unaware of the con's great harms
Some precious silver was stolen
But it made the bishop solemn
But finally the con became good
And became the mayor of towns he would
Music is life and life is the muse
she leads us shows us how to fuse
happiness in every realm
just put music at the helm
throw aside those traps and reins
come with me and ease your pains
you think too much come have some fun
hold out your arms,let music come
you can't hold her ,force her ,mold her
you can't ever even scold her
she is with you or she's not
you have no choice
it's just your lot.
so give it up and let it lie
come with me and touch the sky
and when we touch back on the ground
the staff will fill
we'll write it down.