December Poem by Tiffanie Lein

Silken movements through the air
Embraces the teeth of a gentle giant
Random motions on black and fair
Soothes the static so defiant

Transported through all time and space
The journey itself, and journey's end
Burst with vibrance, style and grace
Souls with tears begin to mend

A staccato here, it jumps in glee
A whilstle of trills go skimming past
Quavers leap forth, swift and free
now a pause - happy beats don't last

Rolling thunder by the horizon
Adagio dampens with melancholy
Ominous and tragic, one Beethoven
Cries in dread of future folly

Ache and wandering begin to tire
As short limbs forced in Fugue to contort:
like trudging a lifetime deep in mire
Prokofiev, likely, any modern sort

Superfluous, rich with colour
black and crimson with fire and brimstone
Or cantabile like a purple flower
chances on her when she's alone.