Fifth September Blog

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Fifth September Blog

Whirlwind.

The whistling wind plucks
The strings of my mandolin.
And buffeting breezes sigh
‘Cross my violin heart.
My trumpet roars
With a hurricane blast,
But a zephyr trembles
O’er my melodic lute.

Thunder and lightning
Pummel my being
Like stormclouds from yonder,
Oh, how I wonder
If cymbals beat raindrops,
For my lute eyes cannot see
Through misty moments
Between you and me.
But pianissimo, you speak
To me lovingly,
And I melt in the wind breath
Of your tenderness.

But he rises triumphantly,
Snatching you from me.
His might overwhelmes you,
Caught in his tympany.
I am bereft, struggle to hold
On to your destiny.
Emotions flee fast away,
He has tempted, you have fallen.

Sadly, you leave me,
My monsoon in your tempest
Like an orchestral crescendo,
The gust of your music
Blasting and blustering
In your crashing furor,
Gone is the melody,
Taking my soul away,
Forever yearning,
I stand here alone.

Copyright. Evelyn J. Steward. September, 2015.

On a dreary Wednesday, the first two lines came to me. I had to write them down, and the rest followed. Very often I will be thinking…..of nothing much……., perhaps the inkling of something mizzeling around in the grey matter. I was getting up this morning, and the first lines came as I started walking downstairs. I just grabbed my pad and got them down before, like slippery water, they faded away. It happens that way in occasion.

Very short today, my friends. Bless you all and keep safe.

Evelyn

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