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




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