Best Sonata Poems
In the landscape
of melancholy,
where arctic
heartbeats linger,
I long for withered
willows to blossom
like speckled
diamond petals,
while your crystalline
silhouette strolls
through tangled tunnels
of my weathered mind.
And I question
the highest choir
orchestrating
ethereal anthems:
What if there’s no right key
to harmonize this
undying yearning?
What if love had a voice?
Would it be an
echo of melting snow—
thawing glacier hearts
to stream upon
silver lakes,
mirroring drifting
clouds of memories
that drizzle
rose-tinted flakes?
There, the crisp
air whispers
magical tales
chauffeured in
cashmere cadence.
But, like the golden
tendrils of
winter jasmine,
my fingers
stretch beyond
fogs of frozen rainbows,
sketching
sweet-scented dreams
across skies
in porcelain pigments,
as your voice
glimmers and
glows amidst
poetic pearls
resting on
your lyrical lips,
shifting through
colors of the
seasonal breeze,
serenading
symphonies
for soulmates.
So let me
undress the
wintry wisps of vanilla,
cloaking the
citrine threads
of sunrise in your eyes,
listening to
the song of the
wind that shrouds
our unsung sonatas
when we were undone.
For you and I,
we are like
jewels in the azure,
ruminating in rhymes,
quilted in a
secluded igloo,
as chickadees
of the night
chirp in sync
with the moon,
mimicking hymns
from the
hypnotic lyre of Orpheus,
to which Eurydice waltzed,
even the waning stars
would unravel
a sequined staircase
to the gardens
above the highest spheres.
For I would die
a million
deaths to
rewind and replay
the dulcet chorus
of this
immortal romance.
"If you're really in love, appearances aren't important. The best house is the one you build in each other's hearts."
Jung Yu jin
Autumn's alliterations amplified an acoustic of death.
Stillness of internal instrumentals silenced my acapella.
Words like wildflowers withered in winter wickedness,
without voice or verse I vanished behind a visible veil.
I was like a lifeless crystallised burnt sienna leaf,
as bitter breaths froze my brittle soul's ink.
Fatigued fingertips trembled from numbness -
without a purpose upon a speechless stage.
Afraid of crisp crying rain, which fell like a refrain.
my summer eyes turned amaurotic.
Life resembled a blank music sheet,
among an abandoned piano covered in iced cobwebs.
In solitude my music remained unwritten,
as I slept in a shivery silent slumber - tone deaf,
finding fading apricity in stolen daylight.
Until a silvery silhouette appeared. - sparkling.
Placed my hands into her warm glove-like hands,
wrapped me in an emphatic scarf-like embrace.
Her rose gold lips echoed in Orphic tones,
reviving my somnolent mute muse.
Blessed with vibrations from her vision,
senses awoke to rhythms of her heavenly harmony -
strumming an enchanting lover's lullaby.
Were you a gift from an orchestra of operatic angels,
sent to place hymns of hallelujah deep into my heart?
As her mystical mystery began to unfold.
In union our lyrics amplified into a rhapsody of romance.
Vibrant tunes from her intimate strings composed a
seraphic serenade, as we drifted into a dream world.
Today,
as we dance under emerald velvet northern lights,
snowfall covers our paths like an ivory blanket.
Soft flakes, like pearls glisten under tinsel moonlight,
as we leave poetic footprints behind in soothing snow -
a chorus of constellations glow to the tempo of our glorious sonata.
Take me there, where the daffodils dance,
Preening with joy, flaunting nature’s art,
Where birds have assembled to watch
Sitting atop, prancing from tips of treetops,
Tuning lyrics of cherry blossom prompts,
Strumming rhythms of spring sonata
As crimson tulips, with lilies purple waltz,
To music of willows breezing with dawn
When sun breaks through haze of clouds;
Traversing over the mountains and valleys,
Over green prairies, burbling tributaries,
Besides garden of multicolored pansies,
Amid bell-shaped bluebells, red hyacinth,
Frolicking on meadows of wild blue Iris,
Rejoicing pink blossoms of magnolia trees,
Glistening verdant knolls, lush foothills.
Take me there, where rivers meet oceans,
Merging the passions of fiery emotions
Riding with tides of romantic notions
Vying allure of love, emblazoning now;
Love that sustained in summer storms,
Love that survived through wintry wrath,
Love our souls extol, in spring’s warmth;
When I decipher your esoteric response
Where verses tender stem from my heart,
As day retreats humming nightingale’s song,
And eve’s dreams blush on magenta arc;
Take me there, my dear, where you are,
On the apex of love, on cusp of romance.
Dance me to the moon
on a wintry day of snow
and glistening light
Hold me in your arms
and make me swoon
like love does on a winter tide
Beneath a parapet of stars
where baby deer do scamper
without fright,
sway me like a leaf on a branch
when pirouetting winds arrive;
Lacey touch soft as velvet
on my shoulders fair,
draw me closer to your breast
keep me warm inside the winds
of this candy cane December.
Set my heart aglow
dance me to the end of me,
then twirl me round and round
like a fancy carrousel
I will be your wintry moon,
and you can be my savant star.
Dream catchers chime in the wind,
like soft tones of a xylophone.
Melodic melancholic rain,
is free flowing,
but morning birds still arrive,
sitting on wet window sills,
singing about their desires.
In daffodil daydreams,
the breeze resonates like a flutist,
gently swaying bluebells in a rhythmic flow,
as pink, silver and lilac heather spread
around a bed of golden violet crocus.
Under my magnificent magnolia tree,
ivory petals dance in puddles upon
damp lawns with fresh grass,
weeping love songs strummed
on acoustic strings of green.
Sprinkles of drizzle sparkle,
like an absent lover's ostinato,
caressing the earth in a
rhapsody of tender kisses,
nourishing it's soul to harmonise with
a symphony of returning sun rays.
As a chorus of clouds clear in
a final crescendo, introducing
sapphire hues with golden delight,
rainbow pastels bless the tempo
of rows of tantalising tulips
in kaleidoscopic shades -
as natures breathes in alternating fusion.
Winter Sonata 11-29-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Winter Sonata
In grave allegro solo grey gathers,
Strings of winter fantasias
Brewing staccatos of frozen fall remnants,
Downbeats for the first movement
As shivering sleet wipes away bucolic barcarolles
Rocking on sapphire barges,
Harbingers of hoarfrost and hibernation,
When leafless boughs conduct the opening motif
To summon deepening darkness
From restrained shadows of turbulence
To beat warnings on frosted windows
Of snug dens – sheltered hallows.
Sweet solstice flutes sing adagio
Then scatter crystalline mists across snow packed paths
In the movement pathetique when sunglow
Glides between aspen,
Ankle deep in fleecy billows,
Sugar flakes flutter in Heaven’s perfect pitch
Rhythmic silent rests hypnotize crisp midnights
When fluttering flakes of dreamy andantes
Ride on melodic cantabile whispers
In flurries of fleecy decrescendos
Spells of codas, enthralled by idle snowfall,
Glitter in lyric tinsel of sparkling crystal beads on twigs.
Movement presto crescendos in frenzied storms
Snowfall pizzicatos fall in descending measures
When rondos of wind song ensembles
Ascend in frigid notes of icy scales
That pirouette in pulsing beats with resonate strings
Plucked by boreas in thundersnows percussions,
Vivace mistrals whirl in powdery ghosts
That spin in tremolo trills of icicles,
And in whiteout scherzos of blizzard sonatas,
Dizzy with solstice frosty fevers
As winter’s thundering cadence modulates
Into vernal sighs of resolution.
I’m drowning in sunset’s last yellow rays.
Clouds plush as pillows cavort, then fade away.
I want to see, to touch, to feel, and breathe the ocean in;
to seize each sacred second – not to stray.
In primrose twilight, summer lingers near.
A giant stillness surrounds me.
There is so much glory to behold
touching the horizon of a placid periwinkle sea.
Ecstasy envelops me. I melt like ice cream.
September disrobed is a Sapphire night.
1. The Field at Sunset
2. A Summer Sunset On a Beach
3. Ocean Sonata
4. Embracing Solitude
5. And Sweet is Her Demise
6. Saturated in Silence
7. In Autumn’s Eves of Gold
8.Dusk
9, Dulcet Dreams
10, Song of September
Your memories quirk in the rays of
stagnant oceans,
my yearning hangs on the tail of the dark
knight moon
as it illuminates the beats of your heart
racing through shadows.
Let us dance all night long sneaking
through the rehearsal of a royal ball
so echoes of your voice leave a trail
in my heart that my thoughts can't
comprehend.
I am lost in the awry beauty of your silence.
even when the waves haul your kiss from
its shores
the wind leads them back to me.
our bodies are synchronously intertwined
with beautiful melodies.
imaginations spread in wildfire, our
names written on the flames.
squeeze me in a smile of scented bluebells
soaked in the berries of your wrong I play
you right.
In the winter sonata
our eyes met in an estuary where our love
was sung by evening birds that flew
through the road of our sailing feet.
What more can I ask of life when saturated
and adorned with tons of rare petals that
stick to me like galium aparine.
I could gaze at you through the spring of
snow and ruffle your hair until the tides ride
low.
My love for you works
against the laws of
time, not fitting into a
scale we will soar like
the sirens of the deep blue sea.
My love, you have shown me ways to exist
amidst cheerful demons and I promise to
spend it all with you even in immortality.
Wrapped in a ballet of
cherry blossom, your
arms are like Fur in the
snow of winter sonata.
(In 1807, Beethoven wrote a piano/violin
piece. Tolstoy followed in 1890, with a novel.
He argued that matrimony can never work.)
What is a marriage? A fusion, or a tether?
Two very different creatures, yoked together?
I was a piano, you a violin:
I, solid, calming, you, discordant, thin,
and laced with bitterness. I was your base,
and you provided brio, flourish, grace.
A lacewing trapped inside a window frame,
yet driven by one blind, unchanging aim,
you struggled up until, played out, defeated,
you fluttered down again, debased, depleted.
A war's a love affair, and love's a war.
We're so inept - or what's a heaven for?
A nest of wasps, my grievances boiled over -
but could there ever be a vita nuova?
We never learned. I hammered pointlessly,
while you abraded. Why could we not see?
And so I played it stately, sad, no frills,
while you kept up your repetitions, trills
and variations. Hovering and wary,
you shunned my structures. Ever more contrary,
you coiled and squirmed in spasms both continuous,
spontaneous, free-wheeling, lithe and sinuous.
It seemed to me the harmony had gone:
we sang on, yes, but each a separate song.
Two butterflies together, intertwined,
we tangled on the same, but different, line.
Flakes, like a lady’s gloves,
gently pulled off
finger by finger,
one by one,
laid upon her lap.
The lay of land, it’s lap
of snowy-white
glows in the velvety twilight
of Winter’s hourglass.
Black and white kittens,
both snowballs of sorts,
in puppy love, whilst
the stars sparkle, like
a ballroom dance floor,
shine like waxy-ice.
The flurries, like downy feathers,
float,
so
slowly.
Elegance of lovers
with lady-locks and manly beards.
Kids blink
as they bow and curtsy -
they always miss
the snowman show.
Blows the cold cream
and powder puff.
Glistening of cracking ice.
The tracks of high heels
from endless waltz of Winter night,
and the snowlady is warmed by her fox
trot. Chattering of children’s teeth,
like applause - they’ve stayed up
way too late.
It’s nearly eight.
(In 1807, Beethoven wrote a piano/violin
piece with this title. Count Leo Tolstoy
followed in 1890, with a short novel of the
same name, in which he argued that
matrimony can never work.)
What is a marriage? A fusion, or a tether?
Two very different creatures, yoked together?
I was a piano, you a violin:
I, solid, calming, you, discordant, thin,
and laced with bitterness. I was your base,
and you provided brio, flourish, grace.
A lacewing trapped inside a window frame,
yet driven by one blind, unchanging aim,
you struggled up until, played out, defeated,
you fluttered down again, debased, depleted.
A war's a love affair, and love's a war.
We're so inept - or what's a heaven for?
A nest of wasps, my grievances boiled over -
but could there ever be a vita nuova?
We never learned. I hammered pointlessly,
while you abraded. Why could we not see?
And so I played it stately, sad, no frills,
while you kept up your repetitions, trills
and variations. Hovering and wary,
you shunned my structures. Ever more contrary,
you coiled and squirmed in spasms both continuous,
spontaneous, free-wheeling, lithe and sinuous.
It seemed to me the harmony had gone:
we sang on, yes, but each a separate song.
Two butterflies together, intertwined,
we tangled on the same, but different, line.
Lovers in a harmonic embrace
Moonlight Sonata resonates
*For Rick's "Crystalline Piano" challenge
I'm bathed in the night, as it climbs through my window
While the music of moonlight softens the air
It dips, oh so softly, peeking gently with care,
Into the room, to lighten the gloom
While a timeless sonata, of so long ago
Croons the same somber notes,
That have played on for years
I have noticed how moonbeams, seek my attention
Hanging over the garden, waiting to hear
Just as a guest, would expect to come in
‘Moonlight Sonata’ has a place in my home
I had practiced through childhood
Though it seemed quite beyond me
With small nimble fingers
Less and less satisfaction
I remember my mother
With dishes piled high
And soap on her nose
Calling out from the kitchen
“That time, much better!”
Or my dad, in the dark room
Walter Cronkite, his companion
Calling out from the shadows
“I think now, you've got it!”
Tonight in the dim light
I watch how the moonlight
Slides over the piano, sliding over the keys
It seems that the moon knows
That time cannot stand still
That years come and the years go
But the tune, is the same tune, and the moon, is the same moon
And the Moonlight Sonata is a place I call home
Muted spring tunes, in blush
Glides softly on the strings
between the seasons
Nickel-plated steel springs become soft
A lush, colorful atmosphere
whirls around your head
Feminine details are being unpacked
channeling eternal muses
Freshly labels, touring relentlessly
With impressive powers,
snowdrops break through the snow
Spring is obviously ready and ambitious
Musics universe is infinite
the listener is free to interpret
Play orchestra, play
It’s snowing ….incandescent, luminescent,
Silvery snow, whispering dreams of rejuvenation...
Air misty, breeze calm, serene!
Do I see the divine Star, which directed the wise men
To a stable on an enchanting evening of starry twilight ...
Winter in sublime aura, orchestrating a sonata of
Harmony, poise, grace, artistry!
Sights through my window-panes are blurred!
Rooftops getting blanketed with white shimmering laces!
Treetops beautifully embellished with silver ornaments,
Grasses caressed by the softest drizzle of snow!
Magnificent Willow stands in silent prayer,
Calm and composed, so does the unruffled Evergreen,
Stretching its arms in thankfulness,
Decked with shimmering snow-pellets,
Gleaming and glistening as the countless stars are,
In the absolute darkness of the magnanimous cosmos,
Majestic jewellery adorned.
Tranquil, serene, noiseless, moonlit nights,
Mesmerizing snow, falling uninterrupted, unhindered,
Envelop with cadence the entire universe around me.
I glimpse a life of multi-coloured hues,
In every snowflake I behold,
The inspiring dreams, the fervent hopes,
The intense ebullience, the solitary woes -
For ever crystallized. Winter creates
It's very best composition! I am lost in dance...
Softly to the hypnotic rhythm of the sonata!