Music
when solitude is sought,
on a rthynmic angle,in low note,
resonance is caught,and inspiration is bundled.
When voices 're heard as acapella,
and the throat stretches like an orchestra,
behold,its love that pours and sprinkles
what every youthful heart 'll rekindle.
And when wrinkled cheek
smiles,bless God,claps and dance in seconds,
the joy of an elder is as high
like the theme is heaven.
When celebration as laughter
is cast on tough drums,piano and electric guiter
and voices 're sparingly gushing out
the world seens to be a stage
and fun is spread at age.
But behold,when the flute of a funeral is whistled
and the choir sings on slacked hymn,
and the cheek 're rollin down tears,
the legs that dances only wrestles against impossibility for farewell is the theme.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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