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Dans L'Heure Bleue Deux

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(Must be read, while listening to the music link embedded in this poem, for without the music, the magic is missing). W. E. Soundtrack- Abel Korzeniowski https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxO1csWNKmg "dans l'heure bleue deux" He sits at his desk like some frozen soulless vintage Christie’s Automaton It’s a Grey day, he’s a world away as he straightens his tie, cuffs his links moves his pens in straight line an assassin’s bullets for brief meetings ruthless pointless annihilation he’s so intent on order no interruptions to his mission of emaciating satisfaction in his heart an aching denial he lacks participation Love's vacant, ‘tis his lonely vindication She stands at her window like some sad Renoir painting the slow steady rain castes grey ripples on her luminous face waning sadness ever wrenching life tainting her stagnant soul’s deep oceans Love’s longing she’s frowning consternation as tears tipple down her cheeks she is thinking, rose petals falling she’s a dying bush, thorns her heart’s thicket violins a symphony stirring she moves away to her piano, sits and with each long slender finger she plays her heart’s notes, the missing keys, her life is out of harmony passion in the music there is her story in her heart an aching denial she lacks participation Love's bleeding away it’s sharp perfume Dark Red Roses He thinks Last Dance She thinks Last Romance Worlds away dancing in time, metronome perfect Waltzing in the whirling windmills of their minds Love's escaping in the Late Evenings of their lives He straightens his pens in his mind the music seeps in his well-ordered mission interrupted he is drowning in this, his Elysian Fields moment dancing with a phantom in his imagination She plays her keys ravenously, potent, she is in the moment, she is drowning in all her swelling oceans music echoes, the wind carries out through open windows on air's currents her stirring piano’s symphony the birdsong wings of her searing melody's invocation In their minds two complete strangers together dance in time they're together participating in their reverie waltz in their minds two Phantoms dance in perfect time their dans l'heure bleue je t’aime in their vacant room soliloquay metronome beats perfect time their chemistry of falling tears their dans l'heure bleue je t’aime (Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)

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Ts Poetry

Date: 12/30/2019 12:34:00 AM

Sad but beautiful special Agent xx

Ts Poetry
Date: 12/30/2019 6:22:00 AM

Perhaps you must V.S.A.M xx

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 12/30/2019 12:40:00 AM

Perhaps I need to write one to blow one's socks off.... V.S.A.S.

John Hamilton

Date: 1/24/2018 10:01:00 AM

This is a masterpiece Leanne! No music needed in this stand alone wonder! It's imagery is amazing, I could visualize each one in their own world, but at the same time they were one with the music, I think this is your best so far!!

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/24/2018 1:57:00 PM

It is beautiful, to me too. I think it isn't my best. My best is yet to come and then, it won't be the best either. I confess John, I cannot write without music. In a sense, my stories are music. I'm composing. In my mind I am projecting movies and there are theme songs and credits rolling at the end...dreadful isn't it? Some kind of madness. But I'd happily drown in it. Thank you for your kind compliment. I must read your stories.

Jannie Breedt

Date: 1/24/2018 9:24:00 AM

So I was.right, I will become a follower now more a slave to your great work. Intelligence and craft make this a momentous write. I defied you and didnt listen to the music. It doesnt need it. Maybe will do so later. Im reading your others.

Jannie Breedt
Date: 1/25/2018 7:41:00 AM

...thank you Leanne. I know you have a thing for defiance. Its the first thing I noticed...

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/24/2018 1:53:00 PM

Jannie, do you know what I love best about your poems - they are OUT there, left of centre. I like it with the music, but each to his own. I had considered at the time, did it need the music, but came to the conclusion, without it there would be no magic and the music is how she interprets her feelings and in his mind there is music too, but on a different level. I wrote this story while listening to this piece of music. Thank you Jannie. Can't wait to read your next story/poem. I have a thing for defiance.

Silent One

Date: 1/24/2018 6:24:00 AM

Nice music to accompany this poem about two lost souls who meet to dance and ignite hidden desires... Another great poem Leanne..

Silent One
Date: 1/24/2018 4:15:00 PM

Jung was on a different spiritual level to Freud.. When I studied psycology at college I got into a big argument with my lecturer about Freud. Eventually i left the course and did sports science instead..

Leanne Lovejoy-Burton
Date: 1/24/2018 1:51:00 PM

There is something to be said for Jung. His take on life, much better than Freud, who was cold and calculating in his interpretation of the psyche. Do not laugh, I've read up on both men in the past. lol..hell, I'll laugh. This is pure imagination, pure fiction from the State of Dreams (good title ... I might use that). Thank you Silent.