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The Soliloquy of Sea Glass
Discards we are, emptied of value
Cast aside, forgotten, meaningless
Our varied hues bartered no regard
In being retained, kept or refilled.
Some shattered while some whole
Stripped of purpose, riding hither
And yon upon the global currents
Which we could not control
Our original intent was consumed
Then invalidated by our abrupt release,
That weighted existence forced
A downward path into the dark
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Sheet Music
If I were a melody in your mind, how would you write me?
In Adagio perhaps, as in the best way to approach.
Would you linger over Staccato, to match your heartbeat in my presence?
And although some may prefer Delicato,
It seems best paired with Appassionato, as two hearts enfold into one.
With tempo written, how would then you elicit my sound?
Gentle finger strokes upon ivory, scaling the highs and lows
Lovingly drawing a bow long and slow across heartstrings, echoing
Would you form the strong embouchure required of the reeds and brass
Or be the pounding, driving force holding together the pace found in the percussion line.
The Impetuarian 