Where Rhythm Starts

Creative minds are never still,
much like the poet's scribbling quill
and artists' brush, their heart to fill
with things we thought so clever
and things we thought of...never.

A syncopated rhapsody -
a playful rhythm's melody,
awakes the soul and sets it free,
like waves upon the ocean
perpetual emotion.

To pluck a string, or key of white,
or ebony in tickled fright -
composing late into the night -
improvisation lingers,
toe taps and snapping fingers.

From beat to beat - skip one - repeat,
in daytime dreams and nighttime sleep,
the seconds, minutes, hours replete -
with humming echoes haunting,
like childhood dreams are taunting.

Surrender now and acquiesce -
its irresistible caress -
disheveled dance where more is less
yet, every note is fitted,
into our souls is knitted.

     Reverberating hearts,
          is where the rhythm starts...

Written for Greg Barden's Syncopated Cinquopet Contest
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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Williams Avatar
September 13, 2026 at 12:18 PM
Craig, congratulations on your creative poem with its jaunty rhythm and music-mimicking flow! Also, well done on your podium showing in Gregory's contest! Blessings & very best, Bartholomew
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