With the heart's pursuing of a goal,
madness takes the measure of a soul.
From a bed fled heart's sweet melody,
thus and then abandoned harmony.
From a tiny seed of thought chewed through,
peeks the shoot from sheaf of words anew.
Walls fall from their all blocked obstructions,
rise again in stubborn constructions.
With the heartthrob beating of the drums,
rhythm's marching swinging swagger comes.
Instruments take up in burst of flair,
singing voices ring out in the air.
Chaos bends anon and comes along,
to celebrate the birthing of a song.

11/16/2011

Author's Note: Just tonight. I thought a sonnet, but not a song.

Posted on 11/17/2011
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