Stage Fate by Roger J Kenyon
All it took was three rythmic taps
On a ride cymbal to morph me to mush
Part of a plush sheen from voices
Disparite but aligned to a commom aim
Like a witch's finger slim that drew
Me through a blaze I wanted to walk
Through to become part of a tonal alloy
A crucible formed to a concave cooled
I sit inert until visited by lathed wood
To perhaps lure kindred spirits to back
Up beauty and to evolve to a passion
I craved and needed to become part of. 03/24/2012
Author's Note: There is something about the sheen and tone of a ride cymbal... .
Posted on 03/24/2012 Copyright © 2024 Roger J Kenyon
|