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Guest Poetry


The music, unbound, rises to the clouds
And floats there,
While clouds sway and dance to the erotic melody;
Cicadas provide the background
Against which the crowd fades into nothingness.
And the rhythmic sounds take ownership
Of the night.

Listen to each note as it takes life and moves into
Independent being,
Traipsing softly across the grass,
Flitting from treetop to treetop just out of reach;
Watch closely and you’ll see the
Creatures of the night
Taking up the dance.

The sweet soprano voice of violins
Calls to the throbbing dignified bass
In a language only they can understand.
It is a private party,
With trombones and drums and flutes
As special guests,
While we become voyeurs, eavesdropping
On the intimacy they alone share.

Suddenly an intruder appears
And the notes are chained, not free,
Dancing only at the stranger’s command
In polite and orderly fashion,
Waiting, restrained, until they can escape,
Their wild passions loosing once again
Into the night.

Nadine McBeth 8/5/06
© 8/6/06

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Reader Comments (1)

cool poetry

May 11, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterThe commentor

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