Suspended twixt the magic and mundane
I hang upon articulated lines
while music courses through each rhythmic vein
like whispers through the undulating pines
that carry far beyond the chosen plain
to help compose fantastical designs
discernable to any that will choose
to listen with the ears we seldom use.
Herd! I think.
ReplyDeletethere is something to be said for what we hear while we are here
ReplyDeletewhilst never hearing
and not being here
i think
Hi Bob,
ReplyDeleteI hear you ;-D
Hope your well :-)
Hey Shirl :D
ReplyDeleteHi ozzy, all I can say is hear hear!
Hi Stacey, thanks for listening!