when I play
there is a small feeling
a curious feeling
like the crescendo moonlight
on the steady ocean bay
the burning beach so bright
the sun beating away
like the lithe deer prancing
to the melody of the sky
the joyous criminals dancing
not caught in their lie
and when strings plucked
and when strings tightened
and when strings strummed
and when strings perform I—
I have a curious feeling.
If only I had a soul.
* * * * *
So, it's a simple poem. I hope you enjoyed it. Can you guys figure out who the speaker was? Reread a couple times and I think you'll get it (if you didn't on the first). Comment; feedback is great!
ČTEŠ
Poems from the Recycling Bin
PoezieJust a random collection of poems from my trove of forgotten manuscripts. Read if you want...