charcoal grey horizon~
on the rusty cast iron bench
my old self sits in pensive mood
beside the lake beneath December sky
the wayward wind as it teases my hair
whispers melodies from long ago~
that breath echo in the air
the echo reverberates ~
weaving fragments into vivid voices
and symphonies of yesteryears
my grandma's lullaby
our high-school graduation song
then tender laughters
of children at play fill the air
then comes the echo
of my father's sobbing voice
as he handed me to my groom
on that Saturday afternoon
whilst the organist played
the Wedding March by Mendelssohn
as the echo fades
and turns tenebrous twilight
into enchanting ebony evening
I look around ~
the coffee shop behind me
inviting for another cup
whilst the coffee on my lap
gets colder and colder
yet not as cold as the winter chill
perching inside of me
It happened around 10:05am and then
Somebody was parked in my driveway
I accosted the man
He opened the driver's window
Before I could speak he pinched my cheek.
"Cheers." He drove away
But I'm taking all the clocks off the classroom walls
No one should know what time it is
As the organist and Director of Music at the local
Village church is leaving for Scotland
I have applied and enclosed with my CV a copy of
Backstage Passes & Backstabbing Bastards: Memoirs of a Rock 'N' Roll Survivor
The new Director of Music will be announced very soon.
Once upon a white winter wonderland
my love and I were walking hand in hand
beneath a gleaming moonlit starry sky
with a flurry of snowflakes swirling by.
Suddenly there came an angelic sound
from a most welcoming church we had found
as we stepped inside, in joy our hearts leapt
a magic moment we’d never forget.
It was a soulful yuletide sonata
I wished to join in sacred cantata
my sweetheart got down on knee and proposed
I said "yes" and tears of happiness flowed.
Who'd imagine melody such as this
would lead to a lifetime of wedded bliss
yet it did and we're so appreciative
of the church and the divine organist.
God’s presence aroused in glorious sound
a Christmas sonata heavenward bound.
JILTED
He stood there at the altar,
The best man by his side,
Awaiting the arrival
Of his beautiful, blushing bride.
The vicar was getting anxious:
They should have started at four.
The organist extemporised,
Until she appeared at the door.
An usher kept a lookout
For the bridal limousine
But came back in and told them
It was nowhere to be seen
At five o’clock they gave up
And everyone filed from the church,
Leaving the groom to ponder
Why he’d been left in the lurch.
But she hadn’t meant to jilt him,
He found, after making some calls.
For he had been at St. Andrew’s
And she had gone to St’ Paul’s
Thomas Talis an organist
a renaissance polyphonist
With a varied musical track
he'd suddenly change tack
Organist Maurice Durufle
a master musician in his day
A composer with much flair
with his choral Requiem so extraordinaire
Nuremburg's Johann Pachbell
organist& composer as well
Best known for his cannon in D I guess
& his influ upon Bach J S
Church organist, Augustus Bell is dead
In life he pulled out all the stops it's said.
Bite Size Poem No 22 Poetry Contest
Sponsor : Line Gauthier
It was a Sunday morning in June, how well I recall
I stood in the pulpit with my morning sermon in print
When all of a sudden I began to extemporize
A moment never to be forgotten--never at all!
I was telling about an event that had angered me
When I accidentally let a shameful curse word slip
The congregation of worshippers fell deathly silent
I wanted to grab my sermon notes and hurriedly flee.
The silence continued for several minutes, I thought,
While I stammered and stuttered and tried to apologize
But it was too late, whatever the damage, it was done
While some composure, a recovery I quickly sought.
Then, suddenly the quick-witted organist played a riff
And I heard a raucous laughter rising up from the pews
I realized the silence had been broken just in time
For my people to know that their young pastor was no stiff!
written May 10, 2021
for "The Audience Falls Silent" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
The chapel, with wood lined walls, honey coloured
gleams in the light of candles and lanterns.
Ever smiling elders younger than most.
With sharp suits and sharper smiles
bow us to our seats.
The groom, in hired clothing .
Waits
The bishop nods, and strange eyes burn behind pebble glasses.
The organist plays unknown music.
Changing to Pachabel's canon in D when a rustle of silk annonces the bride.
Strange words and rites drift around this place,
and I wonder why I am with these unknown people of God.
My friend turns, and with his bride moves down the aisle.
He smiles at me when he passes,
and in his delight all strangeness leaves
God,
Bless us all and do surely keep,
Whether awake or we are asleep;
Moments moving,
God is proving,
And always been one of His sheep.
Oh, and thank you for bringing
Tom and Marg to us with all of
their musical abilities and interests.
They have made life so lovely
for us all. Marg is our church
organist.
Jim Horn
I was sitting in a church filled with light and beauty
listening to an organist as he gently fused my soul
Even the flowers on the alter seemed to be entranced
in this ethereal place where hardened hearts erase ;
And as I offered prayers to the Savior Lord of hosts
I was saturated with karma and unnamable mystique
Faith became a foundling, much braver then my fears
as I touched His loneliness, everything disappeared
Pondering on the crucifix another door was opened
and it was the HOLY SPIRIT who finally dried my eyes
Soon the only thing I saw was a broken Jesus friend .
as I sat on a wooden pew the organist just played
until the sun fell and the stained glass turned to jade .
December 1st, 2019
Contest Name: Holy Spirit
December 1st, 2019
Contest Name: Holy Spirit
I remember my first goosebumps.
I think I was about eight.
Sitting at the edge of the pew.
Alone.
It was someone's wedding day.
My father was the organist.
Then I heard him sing Panis
angelicus.
His voice clear and strong.
Such a beautiful sound.
I could feel those hairs
rise.
I can still see me.
His little pet he brought along.
Everywhere he went, for
company.
Thinking of it makes me cry.
We got along so well.
He and I, when I was
small.
05/11/2019
For Delilah Ventura's Goosebumps contest.
Looming bells;
Celebrating marriage and love
Channelling flowers;
Overlooking for the bride;
From a distant you can smell her;
Aromatic like oracle flowers;
She walks softly and quietly;
Celebrating marriage and love
Flowers surround and hang surrounds them;
Bride to be and her groom;
Standing in a row the bride-man/groom alongside him his best man;
Flowers fold outside wedding blossoms claps;
Father of the bride sheds tears,
Celebrating marriage and love
He stumbles yet says something blew in his eyes;
As the organist plays here comes the bride...
8/13/19
written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019
The Organ and the Flame - St James Anglican Cathedral, Toronto
The organist, practicing,
and I are alone;
unseen by one other.
The pews tremble.
The vast volume of air vibrates with each note.
The morning sun illuminates
the works of mercy in brilliant colours.
Brass and marble plaques adorn the solid stone walls
proclaiming magnificent deeds, selfless sacrifice, pitifully young lives ended.
My heart,
my consciousness,
my spirit,
(Dare I say my soul?)
are awakened.
A bank of glowing candles beckons.
As the organ reaches a crescendo
the tiny flames flicker in time
and I am revived.
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