Pascal Borg Poet Couplet

Music Is My Sight

Out of my senses one I lack nature has been unkind.
You tell me that my eyes are black, is it because I’m blind?

My world is devoid of light, it is painted black and grey, 
the former one fills my night and the latter is my day.

It serves no purpose you telling me the colours of the skies,
the beauty of a distant tree, or how a white dove flies.

Don’t talk to me of clouds and mist, however hard you try
to describe their beauty I insist, that for me it is all a lie.

But place me on a dance floor, if it’s rock I’ll be swinging
to the music that I adore, you can follow I’ll be leading.

I’ll be ready to go, go, go, dancing to those Latin vibes 
whether cha-cha-cha or mambo let the music be my eyes.

When the tempo is not so fast and I hold you in embrace, 
I want the music to last all night I don’t need to see your face.

Now tell me the colour of a rose that I can feel and touch
sense its perfume with my nose that no other flower can match.

This is what music does for me and I need you to understand
that on the dance floor I can see with no need to hold your hand.

Maybe I too will appreciate the splendour of birds in flight
and the things you try to relate if I regain the gift of sight.

But for now, just let us dance, with the music turned up high
Let us tango, let us waltz, and let my blindness be a lie.

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I Am Anaya September 20, 2026 at 4:59 PM So beautiful in thoughtful ways, went straight to my heart dear Pascal. Your show & tell of sightlessness not delicate but with conviction is compelling. We will resonate well with dance as we are dancers by spirit~ Autumn blessings 😉

Christuraj Alex September 20, 2026 at 5:31 AM Your poem beautifully captures the liberating power of rhythm, movingly illustrating how dance can transform a world of physical darkness into a space of vibrant joy and independence. The poem's shift in tempo perfectly mirrors its emotional arc, brilliantly transitioning from the heavy, slow-paced isolation of the opening stanzas to the electric, syncopated energy of the dance floor. By focusing on the rich textures of touch, scent, and sound, it offers a deeply empathetic perspective on how art can triumphantly substitute one sense for another Pascal Borg September 20, 2026 at 2:31 PM Christuraj thank you for your detailed comment. So glad you visited my patch and liked my poem,

Alison A Smith September 19, 2026 at 3:44 AM A moving, finely structured poem that lets rhythm become both language and vision. The recurring dance imagery gives the speaker real agency and joy, while the closing line—“let my blindness be a lie”—leaves a particularly poignant, music-lit impression. Pascal Borg September 19, 2026 at 8:39 AM Alison, thank you so much for the visit and for your lovely comment. I've been so busy lately, I have to visit your page and remind myself of how beautiful and meaningful your writing style is.

Andrea Dietrich September 18, 2026 at 7:40 PM I really like how you responded to the prompt, Pascal. It's obvious you put a lot of thought into this insightful poem Pascal Borg September 19, 2026 at 8:20 AM Andrea, thank you for your comment. It is a shame that I am not a dancer, but then I thank the Lord for giving me sight.