Repose and Prose

Lullaby For All Ages

Instructions for Reading: Get your hands on a copy of Claire De Lune by Claude Debussy. Press play, then let the first, sweet notes wash over you. Pause and appreciate the innoncent tale they whisper in your ears. Now you may begin to read, slowly and with great peace.

Sleep, dear one.

Drift to slumber, you nearest to my heart

Let yourself fall, like a feather on a gentle breeze,

Into your sweet and perfect dreams.

No melancholy in your soul.

Don't be afraid!

The monsters in this world can't touch you tonight.

Let there be peace, peace, peace in your weary heart.

Sleepy freedom awaits you on the other side...

No sad endings tonight, my love.

Now there is…

A soft escape from sorrow!

A daring new world,

Filled with exquisite joy!

Thick strands of love woven together with the silver thread of your wildest dreams...

All come true!

Laughter falling like snowflakes,

Swirling crystal kaleidoscopes of color,

Tumbling though the air

Settling on the ground…

Rest, at long last.

Everything is good again,

Everyone is whole again.

There are no broken hearts tonight.

Your shattered soul is made new once more.

Lift up your face, dear one!

Crystalized sunlight holds you in a sweet embrace,

A cool thread of a breeze winds across your open face.

You can hold your loved ones close to your heart

Without the fear of saying goodbye.

We can be together at last...

Lost forever in gleeful whispers

And charming melodies.

No sad endings tonight,

My love...

Brilliance

"I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person." 

-Walt Kelly

This made me laugh out loud. I'll be searching for opportunities to use this delightful quote sometime this week.

James Valenti at the 3rd Street Promenade

The man with the baby blue guitar and baseball cap
Sits and sings out sweet truth to the broken-hearted crowd.
The echoes of his own personal demons
Hang in his consciousness like ancient spiderwebs...
Brush them away.
Shrieks of harsh reality threaten to break through the crystal shell he has formed,
But the youthful couple still kisses under the canopy of his voice.
And they sit,
Finally at peace.
Gentle notes pulse in the air,
The crowd is still...
And then the sounds of humanity take over.

-

He sits in the midst of the roar of humanity,
Yet he sings of the purest love one could ever know.
Who is he?
Strumming his electric blue guitar,
Gentle notes surge from his mouth
To hang in the chill night air.
They fade into the sounds of apathy.
Who is he?
His melodies tug on the edge of my consciousness
Pulling something from the elusive shadows
Until they wrap around me, filling my soul,
If only for a moment.
The sweet harmony is a couple dancing.
They pause, then slip away into the crowd.
She had a flower in her hair...
He sings of heartbreak and longing.
And I feel the clearest pang of regret I've ever felt
When his golden notes fade with each step I take.

Sleeping Beauty

I believe that this haiku is my favorite out of everything/anything I've written. Ever.

How strange, innocence

A flutter of breath, and her

Sweet hands curled in sleep

Your thoughts, good readers? (or should I say Reader? It seems as though my reading population has once again hit rock bottom. Ah well...quality is better than quantity, and I have the best reader ever. Hi, Cloë.)

Postmodern, Postscript, Post Production...Post-rock?

Hello, my dearest darlingest readers. Sorry it's been a little while, I've been busy...STARTING HIGH SCHOOL. The first week was certainly wonderful (if a wee bit terrifying) and I'm already making some new friends, one of which runs her own wondrous blog. I've mentioned it before, but it truly is a lovely site, so it deserves another mention.  Currently, I'm listening to post-rock, which is a completely instrumental style of music. It's very inspiring. This Will Destroy You and Explosions in the Sky are two post-rock bands that I particularly enjoy and find quite inspiring. I wrote these pieces while listening to their lovely melodies.

Notes scream through silence.

Guitars claw the air with chords,

The piano sighs.

-

White petals, so soft

Sigh with the touch of moonlight

In the morning, gone.

-

Darkness, like sorrow

Where, where is your hand?

Black eyes, so hollow

Where, where is your hand?