Florence

Relentlessly, her voice powers up and down arpeggios and scales

Like a Lambo on the autobahn or a Tesla on full charge

Providing some inner warmth

Against a thin winter’s day insipid chill

Bolstered by plucked accompaniment

Warm as a wainscoted room filled with all of Jane Austin’s heroines

Harps are evocative that way

Contrapuntal to fluid crescendos

A spring tonic of her golden voice powers synapses to fire

Making it easy to climb on for a velvet ride

A smile lights up my face

But my ears are burning

In a conflagration of auditory delight

 

 

David Trudel  © 2013

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s