Best Andante Poems
A Pleasurable Life
The things that bring you pleasure
May be experienced one at a time
Or they may be combined
Into one fantastic time frame
To double the pleasure
And double the sheer bliss
The decadence of eating
With the satisfaction of making love
A combination bursting with pleasure
Warm melted chocolate
To be taken in from pleasure spots
Savored while the tongue swirls the chocolate before taking it in
Giving and receiving pleasure
And tasting….richness
Whipped cream or a touch of honey
Foamed up or drizzled will heighten the pleasure
Just a bit…….not too much
Makes the sweet….sweeter
Feeding body AND soul
Double the Delight
Double the Pleasure
The love of music
Blended in with the love
Of love making
Exhileration carried on notes
Moving fast and slow
Swelling and receding
Pianissimo….to make her melt
Slow slow….
Andante...Andante
The way to go...
Then subito
A sudden change of tempo
The element of surprise
Frozando….no escape...no turning back…
Demands of surrender
Fronzando giving way to Rinforzando
Thundering….again and again
A swelling crescendo
Burst of sound and rhythm and light
Reverberations reaching the inner soul
Suspended in time
The symphony of two bodies
In the throes of surreal delight
Forte…forte…forte
An then…..
Then diminuendo….calmando
The labored breathing of love
Receding with the waves
Al niente
Al...Niente
Fading to nothing
Peace….after Pleasure
Double your pleasures
For tomorrow comes with no guarantees
That your eyes will feast
On the celestial stars
Making love to the night
To the symphony of the universe...
So while you can...
Double your Pleasure
Double your Delight
In a double dose of LIFE
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Other Muse
Interwoven two inspirations at play
Wrapped in a beguiling smile of embrace
Lyrical rhythms enchant nature’s traits
Graceful melody roams music’s landscapes.
Through hymns thundering modal notation
Chants of platinum skies rumble elation
Meander through anthems of sunrise charmed flutes
Spellbound canticle of sunset tribute.
Frisky with spring airs chorus spins spells,
Dark colors of canticles melancholy tells
Flowing andante in tone poem meadows
Allegro reunion - playmates in tempo.
I wander pastoral through charmed melody
Country roads inspire scenic rhapsodies.
Inspired by Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony and Nature
4-13-21
Contest: My Other Muse
Sponsor: Margarita Lillico
lost in a winter dream~
beneath the indigo sky
the melancholic music soars
echoing from distant shores
making dainty daffodils dance
in the bleak starlit eve.
snowflakes whitened my hair
as I chase the evening glow
searching where the melodies flow
and there I find you
under the moonlight shadow
singing my old favourite song
while stardust sprinkles in my palms
as I run to you.
20 February 2021
Notes: While listening to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 21 - Andante.
All Yours( Feb 19) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Briand Strand
1st place
SLOW MOVEMENT
Move out from tall trees - to wider scene now
Tympanic rhythm - andante theme
As footsteps beat on - path of the Ash beam
In diverse prospect - wet levels gleam
Look to the surface - life is reflected
Now mirrors brightening - skies cerulean
See over there the - new view surveyed now
Past tawny grasses - strewn by wind laid
Birch saplings dapple - hazel and apple
Amber the dry fern - dashed now with jade
Where silver stems - surround sun-bright vale there
Small stream descends in - glistening cascade
Over above In - slow closing distance
Land rises to - overlook languid fen
Our destination - draws our steps on to
Reach barrow slopes - fields of wider ken
So measured pace continues ‘til then
While spirit moves to hilltop ascend
The anacrusis, please, andante maestoso,
six bars, before the chorus comes… Hell, what is wrong
with you, the mighty mage of music, virtuoso,
the treble clefsmith? Why the plain and silly song
a pretty flower girl sings outside the window
on her way home from night dating made you put
aside your magic bow? As holy Aurobindo
once said in such a situation: «Ash and soot,
that’s all what’s left of those who dared see the face
of love»… As well as sounds of music, in your case.
Melody Lane
Andante Way
Minuet Pass
Crescendo Trail
Violins strain
Trumpets blare
Drums boom
Cymbals~ silent
The Mountain goes blank
Look up, say Thanks
I fly
Blood flows like a river below
I dance
Scattered bones
I dance
Crows feast on dead souls
I dance
The moon becomes full
The night becomes a stage
The curtain drops
I sing
Capella from the chapel of the stars
Andante so they all die a slow painful death
Inert bodies pile under the stage
I fly away
Tonight we play our favorite duet
to an audience of celestial stars.
Variations over years; a song we never forget,
stroking familiar notes within each bar.
Andante: pianissimo: slow caresses as whispers,
giving attention to those sensitive keys.
Each to the other, a part we deliver;
Entwined we perform with such ease.
Allegro: increasing our synchronized tempo
as our chorus delightfully sings through.
Vibrating heartstrings deeply now flow;
enjoying our art as if new.
Vivo! As the beat of two hearts now race.
Crescendo! Intensively, climax is reached.
Pausing in arc at this euphoric place;
echos in afterglow; encores in dreams.
Many lives have quick moves
of savage rhythms as the samba
or rock’n roll.
On others fits better the tempo of the blues
or the tango cruel fascination.
At least, bolero’s tenderness.
At such speed,
for the good or the worse,
as no selective sponges
they can register all subtleties
too much faint, hermetic or brisk
to the senses of hurried people.
One may suffer, learning or wondering
despite the risk
of overcharging heart and mind
becoming crazy.
I’m working hard to
nothing can turn the knob
that speeds up or slows the beat
and rhythms on me better fit.
That's my unique karmic job.
// This is my tribute to the many blessings that music brings to our
lives. I know many of you share this enthusiasm and gratitude. //
Appreciating an amazing artform: allegro, andante, or adagio -
Bach, Beethoven, Brahms: beautiful berceuse, ballad, and bolero
Classical concertos and Christmas chorales crescendo concordantly
Dancers delight to dizzying drums and delectable dynamics
Ensemble eloquently emotes euphonic etudes and elegies
Flautist fluttertongues flute in frenzied fantasia or fantastic fugue
Guitar gallivants through gavotte, graced by glockenspiel glissandos
Heavenly hymns, happily harmonized, hearkening hearty hallelujahs
Improvising instruments inspiring in impromptu inventions,
Jovial jazz juxtaposition of jubilant, jamming jitterbugs
Kalimba keeps count as keyboardist kinetically caresses keys
Love song lullabys - lilting, legato lines of luxuriant, longing lyrics
Minuet melodies and madrigals marking mellifluous motifs
Nutcracker's necklace of nourishing notes: a nighttime nocturne
Orchestra's opulent overture opus, oratorio's operatic octet
Pianist plays presto pianissimo pitches in pulsing pizzicato perfection
Quartets and quintets on a quest for quality quiescent quarter notes
Romantic rhapsody rhythms resonate as rock 'n roll reverberates
Symphonies and sonatas send spine shivers, saxophone solos soar
Tenor troubadours tremolo in tempo as trumpet thrills with trills
Utopia of unassuming ukuleles unwinding in unison
Voluptuous violin vibrato, virtuoso vocalist, vivace vintage vibraphone
Well-tempered woodwinds wield wonderful waltzes worth whistling
Xylophone eXudes eXcitement in eXquisite eXtemporaneity
Yearning for youthfulness, you yodel "Yesterday"
Zesty zither anyone?
ODE TO THE ANDANTE
(Hum along, Mozart's Andante, -Elvira Madigan's theme-or dream!
Sunshine
and
Warming breeze.
A rose garden,
Rolling hills,
Mozart's Andante.
Clarity,
Inhale,
as we
are seated,
fragrances
Scented perfumes,
Velvet blooms,
Vivid displays,
Mozart's Andante.
Endless
Afternoons,
So sublime,
Mozart's
Andante.
Where once you stood
I glance across the room to where once you stood,
busy with the evening meal, intent on the rhythms
of preparation, glass of wine close at hand;
Barber’s haunting andante unfolds in my head,
the oboe’s sad note counterpoint to my happiness.
You would look up, smiling, and catch me gazing at
your graceful form: slender legs, the gentle curve of
breast and hip, the arch of your eyebrows.
I hold these memories close to me,
they are my anchors that berth me in hope.
The irrepressible Miss distracts me from my reverie,
with demand to play, to enter her madcap world,
full of laughter, flying limbs, and innocence.
But always there is you, full of contradiction,
with promises and loving words, and yet false.
You speak. “Trust me” you say often, and in time
I do; a blind leap of faith into opportunity,
far from the safety of solitude. “Go slowly”,
you say, and I rein in my joyful enthusiasm,
puzzled and unsure how but obedient and willing.
“Trust me” you say, but where is your trust or,
better still, your determination to see things through,
to hold uncertainty inside and enter into the chaos
of compromise, the tension of priorities stretched
and changed, with all the anxiety that brings.
Once you stood there, on a threshold between
independence and life fulfilled, but drew back, retreated
into the safety of work, and in time into aloneness,
save for that young Miss, a joy for anyone,
and the comforting rituals of each day.
I puzzle still. Was it sudden realisation of
the gulf of age, or lack of that fiery spark
that makes another irresistible, or some forbidden
fear that blurs father and partner; or was
it simple motherhood, that provided reason enough.
I glance again at where once you stood
and miss the electric bond of presence, the anticipation
of two souls, two futures, two paths that
yet entwine, separate but one, point and counterpoint;
an elegant argument for life.
Woken up by a huge cock in 5 AM,
Wait Madam, don’t take this as a cablegram,
I’m talking about a chicken clear up your thoughts.
You take me to a waterfall,
Just where I am.
Like the singing birds in the morning
Your voice…
It’s like music to my ears.
Rythmn and blues,
Out of punk and folk rock,
It rocks.
When you vibrate to my soul
Speaking in Andante and Cadenza,
swimming deeply into my soul,
switching on all the buttons on my body,
Like a lullaby, it feels.
Giving me relief as grandpa,
Like I am in spa for a massage.
Resting under my skin,I feel it
Hiding closer to my veins.
Your voice…
Your voice to my ears,
It’s like opera in solo,
And Playing karaoke of my favorite song.
Your voice to my ears
It’s calming,
Like breeze of trees in an island
Closely as I listen,
It feels like I’m floating,
Like a magician played a levitation trick at me.
your voice…
your voice…
your voice to my ears it’s medication
I need no doctor for cure.
Yes, I’m clean I got no infection
Nor any body complications,
Course your voice to my ears,
Its therapy.
The force it exerts towards me,
Strong enough to take charge of my thoughts.
Making me an excellent artist,
In my own head, drawing all perfect portraits
Getting me sit with my legs hanged up the wall
Your voice…
Your voice to my ears,
It’s the sweetest.
Time is the greatest, yet cruelest composer,
It has already written its own melody on us.
Our wrinkles and scars are its notes,
Our skin is its sheet,
And our body is its instrument.
Although, you're so far, far away,
I can still hear your music
Crystal-clearly.
It resonates gently, swirls whisperly
Through ages and lands.
Your melody is consist of the sweetest
And most enchanted harmonic minor scale.
The tempo is between andante and largo,
Yet the dynamics is neither pianissimo,
Nor mezzo-forte; just perfect.
Strumming those golden strings
Which evoke those soft, vibrating sounds,
Your music is calling me from the distance
Embracingly and overwhelmingly;
Never let me go.
I know so well your music; by heart.
It's echoing and reverberating in my mind.
So, if I ever lost all of my senses,
I would say I do not need any of them;
Just the two of my hands
For making music on
The most precious instrument of Time.
Before everything vanishes.
I am attracted by
Virtuous notes
A capable sound
From a Steinway & Sons grand piano
A mighty orchestra
Unknown melodies
A child prodigy at the keyboard
A Gift of Peace
The hammer that strikes golden strings
Of a grand piano.
Bravo. Hurrah.
A Laurel, a performance hardly heard
Attentive spectators rejoice
The vaults of the concert hall
Reflect corpulent sounds
Gershwin’s Allegro or Lento
'Scherzo Con Brio' without hardship
The child pianist
That angels also listen
Of a talent that inebriates like wine
And the key to a distant remembrance
It is now a choral
Then a horn sound
Of at an Imperial Andante
Then the violins all around
Fiery Rondo. Dreamy adages.
Arpeggio and a madrigal
Finally, the Grand Finale
Without hesitation