Met In The Garden


Today, in the garden,
He came in fast,
Settling lightly,
Quietly, on the rock,
I almost didn’t see him.

Hopping down to the grass,
Then up to the edge of the big silver tub,
The one with the new seeds,
He dropped inside,
Ducked his head,
Perked it up,
Ducked again,
Sprang back to the rim,
Flicked it from side to side
Then flew up to the tree.

There, on the third branch from the bottom,
Between the new shoots,
He waited a while,
Eyes watching,
Aware and ready,
For what I was not sure,
I’ll never know.

On a whim,
He flew away,
Job done.

Until tomorrow
Then, young friend,
Until tomorrow.


© Copyright 2015 Robin McShane


Music – Poetry201 – Day 7

My fingers walk across the lanes of pale ivory and the blackest ebony.
I take my lead from the sheets before me as my brain interprets the symbols; makes sense of the printed spots and dots, lines and signs. Soulfully soothe sounds, creating harmony around, find common ground in the emotions of this world. Music speaks to every fibre of our being.
Vibrations from a string resonate through the air, merge our being, fire our senses. Variations of resonations from many sources pound us, falling one by one in rapid succession on our ears, our brain, our being.
Nothing escapes untouched.Nothing escapes unchanged.
Nothing escapes.
Music surrounds us wherever we go, whatever we do. Wind through trees; cars on roads; seas on shores; bird wings ruffling the air as they fly to some distant land, strange to us, a second home to them – instinct stronger than thought, the music of the Universe.
The cacophony of sound around us speaks to the essence of life and we answer.
My well-practiced fingers stroke the triggers of release; lovingly massage an instrument of change. Seeking the purest tones to bring order to chaos, harmony to discord and vibrant power to the air. Hoping to create change for the better; change for life; change for the soul, I play on.
Would it could be so continuously!


Copyright 2015 Robin McShane

Day 7 (already?!!):
Prompt: Fingers
Form: Prose poem
Device: Assonance

So, we write a poem in prose form/or prose like a poem (?!!) with fingers as our reference point, using the strategic repetition of vowels…mmm!! Really stretching my comfort zone Mr @benhuberman…again! 🙂
This is fun and do hope I achieved a result close to the requirements!
Any comments are valued