music

No Static At All

Pick’s in hand, sticks in mind,
harps guide in words I find.
Inspiration meets, greets and fleets.
Hearts feel souls on streets.

Vibrations good, silence strange.
Eyes flicker, scenes change.
A world of waves: hellos, goodbyes.
Exuberance crashes laughs with cries.

Future’s run forward, stepping away.
Winnings cost, losses sway.
Pencil’s sharp to fill the gray.
F M, I’ll beat another day.

~*~
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Forecasting a Past

I’m too old to be a rock star,
too young to drive a big car.
With a Bugs Bunny brain and body of Fudd,
both barrels blaze, half’s a dud.

In my high fidelity cartoon I animate,
pages fanned, notes came late.
Rhythm’s slowed, meter’s now feet,
when the song remains the same chapter’s complete.

Yet I’ve albums to fill and records to break,
while my quill gently weeps for time I ache.

~*~
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Little Things

~

We’ve walks in the wood and strolls on Main Street.
Our times hand in hand are always a treat.
We’ve snuggled close many a night at the beach.
Our windows foggy, but horizon’s in reach.

We’ve sat at home with the music down low.
Our lips in sync to the songs we both know.
We’ve woke to mornings wishing to never end.
Our moments magnified when a lover’s a friend.

~*~
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