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The Composer...
An intricate arrangement composed
of the highest of high notes and lowest of lows
with a melody loosely entangled to
mingle and frolic where tempos transpose
A symphonic emphatic exquisitely
off beat concoction of instrumentation
casually harmonized frequently improvised
randomly altered by pure inspiration
Tuned in, toned down, turned up, tried out
performed with no prior rehearsal
on life's center stage where every page
has one chance to shine universal
The composer now pauses to regain composure
A brief intermission, another transition
while orchestra plays at the hands of conductor
a haunting internal rendition
Poised in refrain an emotional chorus
plays on, a nostalgic reflective collection
of augmented chords picked and plucked from the score
in a moment of quiet introspection
Sustained in the rhythm a pulse resonating
unyielding, unmistakable, staid
born to arouse the composer's next passage
as yet still unwritten, unplayed
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The Composer...
An intricate arrangement composed
of the highest of high notes and lowest of lows
with a melody loosely entangled
I can slowly feel the beat
making my body dance
I can feel it flowing through my feet
as I take my stance
Is there not
by Mike Bayles
Essence
One note seeks another and another
to form an innate rhythm
in chambers of the soul.
With or without words
Clashing noise of city life;
country night, stars shine bright.
Ocean's waves kiss the shore;
mountains echo, rains that pour.
Rainbows
Moves My Soul
It's the pound when the drums hit,
The ring of a trumpet.
That moves me.
The whine of the electric
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Poetry: Music
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