Listen to This

Thorns are in gardens,
And colors from pretty flowers,
Rose pedal jellies are sweet.

This world of sounds,
Voices heard, long before birth—
Mother, father, sister, brother.

Sounds of nature,
So sweet and quiet,
Some warn of danger,
Others safe passage,
Voices of friends,
A love,
Some grumpy old men.

In time,
Life’s pleasures wane and wither,
Music comes not as before,
Beautiful sounds are
Nothing to waste.

Disallow atrophy
Of lust
For a wondrous life.
Be alert.
Sounds. Enjoy them.
Be aroused
By smiles and touches
Of troubadour drums.

Surround yourself with pleasures.
Hear every note
With silences between.
Waste nothing.
Mind our gifts.

Take care,
my love.
Some things shall not
Always be there.

Look both ways with eyes and ears.
Mind the gaps between notes and words.

12 thoughts on “Listen to This”

  3. I like how the imperative title hooked me in, Bill, and how you began at the beginning with ‘voices heard, long before birth’, as well as music and other sounds. I know a few ‘’grumpy old men’, who are probably that way because they can’t hear sounds of nature and music as well as they used to – I have some hearing loss, so I understand. I’m still enjoying music, just have to turn it up a bit.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Thank you, Kim. What a wonderful analysis of my poem. I have 100 LP albums hanging on the walls of this room and a few hundred more on shelves. I use Beats headphones and listen to the music every day. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

Leave a comment