A Poem by Harlon Rivers
Penned on watermarked cotton paper, cursive letters script the words... Writing a song of love...
Apollo and Daphne...John William Waterhouse
The Minstrel of the Blue Moon
Penned on watermarked
cotton paper
cursive letters script the words
of a surrendering rhythmic
rhyme
The ardent sonata was
written
by the light of a Blue
Moon’s shine
The blood red ink
bled
through the white
wrinkled cotton pages
Musical notes dried by
moon beams
in the subtle pollination
breeze...
The maestro Coyote’s
howl cried instinctively,
eerily heard from the
distance
bringing lovers to their
knees.
The words to the Cabernet
Sauvignon
stained midnight
lullaby
were emotions quilled,
blending an aura of
organic colors...
The native maple
trees
flowering canopy of spring
released dusty yellow
pollen on the sheets
In a moment of rapturous
intimacy
the inhaled bliss
of
the euphoric passionate moment,
untamed wildness savored,
Exhaled ecstasy
released into a song…
That gentle melody still
ligers
like hieroglyphics on the
walls
of some long lost
abandoned cave
Engraved, etched and
carved
onto the brattice canvas
of a musical
minstrel’s
melodic mind...
Watch the artiste’s finger’s
prancing graceful ballet
Worn down catgut strings
moan
crying out lustfully
The rhythms notes
paint a masterpiece
in an infinite
harmonious time...
The tempo’s lines.
phrasing,
...hush...!
Listen to the pictures
flow...
Listen to the weeping
guitar strings’ troubadour
paint the metaphorical
canvas scene.
The ebb and flow of their
body’s rhythms,
the Blue Moon’s light
glowing
while shadows dance
all around
Joyfully twirling,
embracing
while blue bonnet
lupine
swirl and tango
in the moonlit breeze.
Lilacs fragrant aroma in
springtime
lament the
fleeting memories recital
The minstrel and the
minstrel’s song
now yearn to be set
free
Timbre without
reverberation
The serenade was never
written
by the nightingale
A romantic
moment’s sorrowful memory
abandoned forevermore
unsung,
unreleased, unsaid
left for dead
through eternity…
The maestro Coyote
is the wilderness
troubadour
of the full moon’s
delights.
Howling...wailing
instinctively
crying hopefully
mournfully grieving
the minstrel’s cadenza
Love lost below
the full Blue
Moon’s
glistening light…
Harlon Rivers… April 30th.
2012
© 2012 Harlon Rivers
4 comments:
Last night I heard the Coyote's howl in a close by tall grassy field...It made me feel very lonely to hear his pathetic plead and reminded me of this poem I had written last spring...It's funny how memories go...One moment something triggers something and it plays across the screen in your mind like and old movie you watched may times...I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed reliving the distant memory...
I remember this one.. it was one of the first of yours that I read.. I loved it then and I love it now.. the call of the high desert fills my soul..
olla
It means so much to write something you connect to in a very special way as the author...but when someone connects in their own personal way the stars line up, the moon dust coats the back of my hands and it inspires me to keep trying to write something new and special knowing, even dreams are always possible to happen again...Knowing you read this before in another place in spring and still remember, is even more humbling...Thank you so much, olla...
listen to that call, go there...seize the moment, thrive full of the moment and be free...
This poem is intoxicating. As I read once again; memorable moments shared within sight, sound, and the fragrance of nature. Very expressive ~
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