Treasure Island

Mark R Slaughter


Violin


She cried for all the broken hearts,
Painted everlasting winters -
Floral patterns etched in ice;
A frozen tear to
Soften up the bastard bones.

Bow made love to needy string
In cooing fling - wanton whispers
Fondled under pianissimos,
Caressing callous hearts.

Melodrama swayed in satin sound -
Yet the player wasn't there,
Only creamy song - soothing, yearning,
Teasing bitter minds.

I sensed her persevering loneliness
For beauty of an evening,
Romance of a tune - laughing,
Sobbing at the fire.

Then a climax -
Writhing passion cutting deep -
Wounding macho flesh;

And all in a work of musical art:
Ephemeral stories, yarned of music
Honed impossibly through her tones.




Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010










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music music music music music music
music music music music music music
music music music music music music
music music music music music music
music music music music music music
music music music music music music
music music music music music music
music music music music music music
music music music music music music

Submitted: Monday, March 22, 2010
Edited: Saturday, February 16, 2013

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  • Marina Gasbey (7/27/2010 10:01:00 AM)

    An odd topic, music, but and interesting one at that! Music strikes many visions and emotions to mind. Your words were very captivating! ... Marina Gasbey... (Report) Reply

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