The Singer.

The deep tones that echo, sonar-like,
Through the green-lit waters, and the
Bass notes that underly the wind.
The slow drawl of words drawn out
By notes that linger and echo and
Wind round the melody.
The rippling guitar that flows so
Softly and strongly over the rocks
Of the echoing lyrics.
All these, and so much more,
Mean that memory does not die.
And the singer makes me cry.


© 2ndwitch, 19/01/16

Thank you for . . .

In the tone of the voice sits the warmth of the smile,
And the notes that dance on the bow are laughing;
Even when the song is sad, the warmth spreads
Like sinking into a scented bubble bath, and the
Velvet tones caress the senses, and soothe the soul.

In the whispered love-words of those dextrous fingers
And the tautness of the strings, there sings a glory
Of intimate erotica; the song the guitar sings is
For your ears only, all else are voyeurs, and should
Not be listening, nor drowning in sound.

The soft and sensuous marriage of horse hair and
Metal, vibrating in time, creating cadence,
Soaring, eagle-like, over the mundane and everyday
Troubles; here, in stark relief is the condensed
Experience of all human kind.

© 2ndwitch, 14/01/14

Silver and gold.

There is no use for my body,
It is broken, and flabby, and
lacks the smooth grace that is
Demanded of it. I have failed
At the basic requirement of woman.

There is no use for my soul,
For, with a body that repels, how
Can the soul be heard to sing?
How can the sun that lurks behind
The steel-grey cloud of rain penetrate
And impregnate the silence of voice?

(2) 2ndwitch, 03/10/14

(My thanks to Drever McCusker Woomble, whose song 'Silver and Gold' inspired this poem. I do not have a url for them, but see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wtg-k8zj03c for the song.)

I want to do nothing.

When the day has faded from gold to soft grey,
And the twilight sings with the evening songs
Of the leaves, and the whispers of bat wings
Tell each other the secrets of the day now ending,
That is when I dream.
I dream of being accepted, whatever I am,
Whatever you are, and whoever anyone might be.
I dream of peace, and smiles as we pass on the street.
I dream of kind words from the people we meet.
I dream of silence, and contentment as the blanket
Of night falls onto the sleeping day,
And the stars, bells in the velvet sky, chime
A lasting lullaby.
I dream of one day, one future day,
When you and I, whoever you are, can sit
In silence and do nothing together.
When all the world can halt, and watch in peace
And understanding, and when no-one will be alone
As the depth of night descends.
I dream.

© 2ndwitch, 24/09/14

Stan Rogers

A few words, a glance, such simple things
That can mean so much, that
Allow the sun to shine when the clouds
Are weeping rain on your world.
So many songs, so many pleas, so many
People for whom love is a reality,
And yet, and yet . .
For so many people that is a dream,
A longing, a pain and a hole that no
Transient pleasure can fill.
Sometimes we have something so
Precious that we are dazzled to the
Meaning and beauty of it,
And we carelessly cast it aside,
And trample it underfoot.
But I am glad he lived.

© 2ndwitch, 15/09/14

My Prayer For The Day.

Each day I read and I wish.
I watch and I wish.
I listen and I wish.
I read your words, and wish my arms
Could stretch across miles.
I watch your tears and wish my arms
Could circle your shoulder with love.
I listen to your voice, and wish my heart
Could talk, could sing, could give you harmony.
I cannot stop the pain,
It will happen again
And again.
I cannot quell the fear,
It comes near
And near.
I cannot stem your tears,
I cannot hold back the years,
None of the years.
Each day I wish, and wish again,
And still I wish I knew
Who you were, what you are,
Because without knowing you
I still care.
And I wish, how I wish,
How I truly wish that someone
Somewhere cared for me.

© 2ndwitch, 03/09/14