Rebecca Stansfield


The Kind of Day when Violins Play


Clouds made up of sounds of violins, the white clouds that seldom move, if you stare for days.
The birds that never seem to look angry, even as the crows, eat their own friendships.
The kind of day when the sky, looks like a flying ocean, and you want to jump up into it, not realising that you cannot fly upside down.
When the monsoon is barley a problem, because you like the look of the rain anyway, because it looks like sunrays, sunrays from the sky.
The kind of day when the trees hardly seem to sway, even if there was a tornado, you'd refuse to run away.
And the crickets that you hear, as you walk across a field, are not crickets on a field but,
angles in a jungle.
When the earth moves and makes you dizzy, when you lay on the ground, and a tear falls down your face, that tastes of sugar and not salt.
The day when the hypocrites, never will seem right, because in your heart you know why, the storm that is supposed to look black, somehow to you today is looking bright.
That day when the music that usually makes you cry, is sweetening up your day,
because the tears are not stinging anymore, because they are happy- tasting-sweet.

Submitted: Friday, July 22, 2011
Edited: Saturday, July 23, 2011

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Comments about this poem (The Kind of Day when Violins Play by Rebecca Stansfield )

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  • Ben Smaller (8/8/2011 10:46:00 AM)

    Touching, if all days were this same, I'd be happy. What moves me is the violins too, they weep when us in heaven like this just the same (Report) Reply

  • Romeo Della Valle (7/22/2011 8:10:00 PM)

    A very impressive and well penned write that really touched when read! Your imagination did magic in this poignant write! 10+++ Keep inspiring the World with your thought provoking works! If time permits, please read and enjoy my poems titled: A MISSING ANGEL and AN ANGEL AND A VIOLIN! I hope you enjoy them! RDV from New York City! (Report) Reply

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