Boy with Violin

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Sat, 11 Jan 2014
  • 647 reads
6 comments
 
In the laidback sprawl
of a winter’s evening,
she knew, nights like this,
she could not reach him...
 
his sadness, palpable
as the shawl of pines
on the distant hill
beyond his window –
blew and billowed,
 
rose and fell
to the highs
of his crescendos
and the lows
of his larghettos;
 
laying down his violin, 
only to feed the fire...
neither to eat – nor sleep.
 
He, who was in the business
of teaching nightingales
how to sing...
 
he, who saw his music
as a child, coming of age,
to which he must give, 
sometime soon,
free rein.
 
Somewhere, in unlit
hallways – rooms
deep inside his mind,
a woman cried; then,
 
a silence – follows
the tolling of a bell.
 
On the sill, a saucer 
where moonlight pooled,
a glass – quivered
liquid silver
 
and two votives
danced a slow dance
as the draught
from an open door
bid them so to do...
 
a certain symphony
by Stravinsky
goading them on
 
and she took him
in her arms – soothed
his body with hers
like smoothing ointment
on an open wound.
 
 
Certificate PG
Poem
Spiritual
Love

Comments

Submitted by lisa h on

A picture is painted, both of the physical world and of the emotional. Wonderful poem, as always.

Lisa x

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

My sincere thanks to you, Lisa, and it has made my day to hear from you.  Hope things are well with you and yours smiley

Tina x

 

Submitted by Bee on

Hi Tina.

I feel as though I've read this before. I loved the 'saucer where moonlight pooled, a glass - quivered liquid silver...' All of the description is filled with light and texture. Another beautiful poem.

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, Bee.  Your lovely comments, more than appreciated.

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Tina,

the beauty of this poem,  is that you've mentioned all the important elements.  There is a delicateness about it that I found so absorbing,  it  definitely captivated me. 

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

I'm so pleased to hear that, Jenny.  Many thanks.

Tina