The Lost Song
I spend my days drinking pots of coffee in my house in the forest
Trying to hear the music through the falling branches of desiccated trees.
In the night, the pitter-patter of field mice drown out the sound of you.
And so, I must find ways to convince myself that I am only dreaming.
I step outside onto the frosted grass
As the notes play on like a leur cast out to sea.
Suddenly, my stride is a smooth waltz.
Suddenly, the wonder of whether I am dreaming dissipates.
Suddenly,
I am with you.
Under the snowfall
You reveal to me why the notes blend like melted chocolate.
How the ground no longer feels so bitter.
Why I no longer recognize the forest I once knew so well.
Spinning under the silver moon to the melody of Your unforgettable symphony,
You have allowed me to see you like I had many years ago.
You are invisible, yet iridescent
Only being seen when undeniably heard.
A perfect angel
Leading me to the song of myself.
About this poem
I imagine this poem was written to dance. - Virello
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Written on May 15, 2023
Submitted by virelloc on May 28, 2023
- 57 sec read
- 54 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | XXAX XBXXBA XXXX BXXXXX |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 937 |
Words | 191 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 6, 4, 6 |
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"The Lost Song" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/161349/the-lost-song>.
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