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A Violin At Dusk

Rating: 5.0
Stumble to silence, all you uneasy things,
That pack the day with bluster and with fret.
For here is music at each window set;
Here is a cup which drips with all the springs
That ever bud a cowslip flower; a roof
To shelter till the argent weathers break;
A candle with enough of light to make
My courage bright against each dark reproof.
A hand's width of clear gold, unraveled out
The rosy sky, the little moon appears;
As they were splashed upon the paling red,
Vast, blurred, the village poplars lift about.
I think of young, lost things: of lilacs; tears;
I think of an old neighbor, long since dead.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: music
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COMMENTS
paul amrod 28 May 2019
A highly contemplative and pensive piece filled with the beauty of a violin at dusk stirring up inner thoughts and imaginative images. Quite profound!
1 0 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 28 May 2019
Enough of light to make! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
0 0 Reply
Julia Luber 28 May 2019
Spells out like a painting often works the mind.
0 0 Reply
Mahtab Bangalee 28 May 2019
as if the rhythm touches every cell of heart lovingly
0 0 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 28 May 2019
This is a beautiful poem on music having touching expression and nice collocation.
0 0 Reply
Castellenas John 28 May 2019
Wonderful poetry. The perfect use of description allowed me to hear the music.
0 0 Reply
One of the best poems by Lizette Woodworth Reese.........
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