Cello Dreaming

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Poems
Trying different arrangements of the rhyme cycle, in one poem. --- The poem is a fantasy about a dream-like musical fantasy.

Submitted: May 24, 2019

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Submitted: May 24, 2019

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Across the meadow

I heard the Cello

Playing softly

And I wondered

Who was doing such a thing?

For the Cello

Is not a sound

That raises heartbeats

Or causes hosts of angelic choirs

To sing.

 

The Cellist

Was not new to the instrument

I could tell

Because the tones were richly played

And as I listened

I understood the songs true meaning

That's when I saw the meadows orchestra

Arrayed.

 

Across vast fields of flowers

There were players

As if a stage was set for Maestros,

Young and old.

Every instrument was sounded,

Not one

Confounded,

And they all joined the Cellist

Like sheep unto the fold.

 

So I sat at my piano

And began to play

And my fingers found the keys

Without mistake

But just as I was drifting into harmony

Something shook me,

And Damn,

I was awake.

 

I'm told you never have the same dream twice,

For there is always something different

In the dreams that enters in.

How I wish that wasn't true,

And for the sake of feeling Blue

 I would love to dream the Meadow Dream

Again.

 

 

JE Falcon

05-23-2019


© Copyright 2020 JE Falcon. All rights reserved.

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