So the trumpet trumped, loud and urgent
The mountains scurry off
The fingers of fine tress wave on earnestly
Many a people hurry by,
It would seem that the signal had been given and well received it was.
Yet I watched on listlessly
My mind hinged lightly as on a bruised reed
Ready to break
My zeal, once an array of vibrant embers, smothered.
Of course I understood the trump
But I couldn’t react
I wouldn’t react.
Dare I die to this life and live again?
Oh how shrill the sound of the silence in my soul!
Resound ever loudly in my soul,
The soft tunes of stringed melody.
I want to live again
I choose life
The mountains skip
The earth quakes
Bodies move urgently as with direction
And I am one of them.
She dipped her pen in scarlet,
Carved out a sheet of the clouds’ misty curve
On it she penned a letter of love
As whispers of excitement softly tugged the earth
In her heart, a thousand words fluttered by
Much like the sparks within an electric cable
Blue, Gold, Purple, Red, Silver: hue incredible!
In her heart, a decent picturesque of the dimpled gent who walked by
Loud whispers serenade the earth
Making beautiful melodies
There is a writing in the clouds above
A masterstroke made by love
Leota saw her one-time best buddy, now friend, Anne with her (Anne’s) one-time sweetheart, now friend, Corban Tuck
Both in a thicket, stuck!
But you see, Leota walked the path with abandon
And afar off she watched with a mask donned
As Corban Tuck and Anne in their fix sweat
In a continued not so private tete-a-tete