The Keys

piano keys

When the hard work came

and fingers fell flat

in dyslexic stumbles

at the stern reminders

of the metronome

who eyed her sharply

over dog-eared pages,

it didn’t feel as though

she had been handed

the keys to the kingdom.

It would take thousands

of chromatic notes to scale

that mountain, thousands

of butchered melody lines

to bind chords of muscle memory

and visual acuity into

harmonious union,

inversions ringing

as theory sang its way

into practise.

She couldn’t tell you

when the notes began to stir

something more than

soured milk in her soul,

when the melodies

sank into her bones

and played her heart-strings

in tones of salvation songs;

all she knows is that

these keys have unlocked

Rapunzel’s gate,

releasing the Muse,

and fingering their well-worn

skin ignites her own

with a song

that beats in her breast

with the sound

of her own

pulse.

Bringing in the Sheaves

blackbird harvest

 

Sing a song of harvest,

A sheaf of golden rye;

Four and twenty blackbirds

Taking to the sky.

Sing a song of plenty,

Of food that’s gathered in;

Heralding the season

That stores so much within.

 

 

Birthright

lit.jpg

From dust to dust, she’s crawled for years,

serpentine,

a snake in dead grass;

but now that she’s heard her song

sung over her,

she dares to lift her eyes

and claim sunshine as

her birthright.

Sunshine’s Serenade

iceload.jpg

Tympani tap out your beat,

pitter-patter at my feet,

notes that songbirds’ trills repeat,

raindrops unafraid.

Drips and drops in double time,

church-bells’ cheerful childhood chime,

sweet percussion, Springtime rhyme,

Sunshine’s Serenade.

Sing a Song of Winter

Winter Sparrow

Sing a song of winter,

a sparrow with a chill;

Sing about the way he flits

while filling up his bill.

Croon for him a song of old,

to sing the cold away;

Harmonize with frost and ice,

and winsome-warm his day.

Sunday Morning

Tenors chime with soprano voices,

Basses boom with deep note choices,

Robes are straightened, warm-up trills;

Throats are cleared to drum-beat fills.

Pews are filled with chorus song,

Soloist extends notes long;

Worship team lifts hearts in prayer

As Sunday’s choir fills the air.