minstrelsy
minstrelsydear gathered players
-- playing for fun
poems of your
horns, strings, and
drums, cymbals fair
-- with harps, reed-tipped
tubes of silver and wood
not merely played
but sung on the air
titillating heaven's
gate -- to brightly shine
art to sound
and sound to art
consonant
-- sounding together
for moments
fortuity in –
seconds of time
-- listen them
while playing
aloft your agendas
-- mundane
smile for heart's
sake
hark back
afresh
poems
that were tunes
played just
for fun.
Poetry by Victor
Read 755 times
Written on 2016-05-12 at 17:09
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Ivan R |
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Elle |
