Wednesday, June 16, 2010


An azure domed afternoon.
Sun patterned applause on your face,
The expectant quiet of a quilt on the thick grass,
Which curves over the hill like a bow
Across the violin's bridge.

Lazy clouds make trills and turns in your eyes
As you lie on your back looking up
At the sky, long-fingered hands in your mouth,
Corners tipped up,
Baby plump cheeks flushed red in the sunlight.

And the world laughs back
For you.

A day that could float
Right off a cello's strings...
Just you and me
And the wind which shivers through the trees
(The young leaves play the variations
To the theme).
Your tiny tongue peeps out between your lips,
And you wave your arms
As you conduct the orchestra of today.

But this is no black tie affair.

You gurgle as if you know something I don't.
In truth you do;
You're young enough to know more than I.
You have grasped the melody
Of that spring afternoon
When all I hear now
Is the beauty of