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The sound of the oboe is an invitation for love.  – My quote.

Listen, my sweet love, can you hear its sound?  
It makes me wish to hug tight and kiss you.         
It vibrates softly through the woods around.      
It is no wonder true love always grow.                   
The oboe's balmy melody that haunts,                  
Resembling a fine choir richly endowed,             
But what need have we of people around?    
Reminding us of love and all our wants?               
Once heard, not forgotten, though there's no crowd.      
Listen to our love sighs as soft as sound.       

A rune in honour of the rising moon.
From languishing lento, or diverging
Into a crescendo only to tune
Mellifluous melody, varying
Blue birds sing their lovely tune which resounds
Around the mountains as the oboe sings
Its magical melody. Our hearts feel
The pain of euphoric love, which confounds
Though we feel as titanic queens and kings,
Only by love our life is made real. 

Then we rest a while under an oak tree
A light breeze brought to us our oboe's song,
Could we not be as merry as could be?
The kiss we give was long, enticing long.
We make our way to our lonely warm hut
How well, through our love we do understand.
The echo of the oboe makes its way,
A fine fire is lit and wood crackles but
The tender meat stew flavoured smell so grand,
Surely fairies wish to have their last say.


3 May 20222

Placed 1

Subject Love
'Form O- Ode- New poems' Contest
Sponsor	Constance La France
HowManySyllables and Rhymezone Used

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