Dirge flowed from her violin
dark clouds pooled in her heart
some mean spirit stole her metronome
she only hears her body’s clock
sounding the call of her passing dreams –
the Love that will complete her heart
a babe cradled in her arms
for whom she’ll sacrifice her art.
Oh how she wished to escape the music
that had sheltered her all her life
She was the prodigious child
casting a spell with her bow’s lightest touch.
Now, her bow wearied the strings
that she thought held her bound
her fingers fell like lead
pounding on her prison bars
Her eyes looked past the score
searching the captive crowd
for that one distinct face
to lift her from Ennui’s shroud
only to find that love is like a needle
lost in a haystack
what becomes of the violinist
while the woman finds her heart?
Claudia’s Poetics prompt at DVerse Poets’ Pub is about telling a story. To this end, she asked us to include some of the words that she gave in our work. Please drop by the pub to see the exotic words that Claudia listed. 🙂 I chose – violinist, metronome, and a needle in a haystack because I like the violin and its music, and because there are violinists who have made a difference in my life. 🙂
As usual, I am catching the tailend of the prompt. We spent the day in the big city. We are spending a two week break in the rural areas of Maine. The trip to Bangor takes an hour (and that is short by Maine standards). As such, the trip is always a big production and one that should be maximized. It is my way of apologizing to you, dear folks, if I am not able to see your posts today or tonight. I do try to catch up best I can. However, I seem to have surrendered as far as replying to comments on my posts is concerned. I am sorry about that. I generally prioritize visiting and commenting on your blogs.
Thank you for coming by. 🙂 God bless you.