Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Long years before I could afford it at all,
The setting I dreamed was of a large room, 
Windows open to the majesty of mountains, 
And the cool, fresh breeze from miles around.

A cushioned chair lulls you, not just to sleep
But be awake and enjoy the sunswept scenery.
The sweet music surrounds you and raises you 
And your mood to be happy on top of the world.

Yester day, in a Concert Hall, I enjoyed for real,
Sweet and lilting songs from a charming woman
Whose magic voice had a magnificence of its own  
Of rendering great and glorious verses to perfection.

The smiling lips, the constant bows and majesty
Given free but shared not with the listeners anew.
The lyrics of pain, suffering and unrequited love
Were depriving listeners of their joy of being alive. 

And in a dramatic move, she sang of her land 
And what it told her, “My daughter, be the guard 
“Of the honor of your land and your devoted mom, 
And your own courage and the safety of your home.”

Her voice broke. She looked around, took her bag 
And she just jumped down the stage and fled home,  
Hiding her tears and running mad as though in rage, 
She put the rude and unfeeling audience to shame.

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