Her Songfulness

Photo Credit: Google Images

Like a rush of breeze,
Surprisingly fragrant
With an aroma
Oh, so mysterious;
Like the breeze, which
Is alive with the sounds
Akin to joy,
When she makes
Her presence felt,
How does one
Refuse oneself that?

Music she is,
Like the sweetness
And sadness of the
Piano chords,

Tapping a beat,
Bringing about a pulse,
Moving through the
Body and feet
To the newer rhythms;

She is music,
Like the elation
Of a santoor,
Like the melancholy
Of a lonely violin.
How does one
Not dance to that,

Like the lyrics do,
When the music plays?
Each syllable of each word,
Each rhyme and every reason,
When broken down
To its essence,
Reverberates music.

She is music
Without her lyrics;
She plays on.


6 Comments Add yours

    1. Iliena Bosu says:

      Thank you 🙂

  1. johncoyote says:

    Perfect use of words and thoughts. Create picture of beauty and dance.

    1. Iliena Bosu says:

      Thank you so much. I appreciate the encouragement. I am also grateful to you for re-blogging my post.

      1. johncoyote says:

        Was my pleasure and you are welcome.

  2. johncoyote says:

    Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
    Please read the amazing poetry by a talented writer.

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