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Poems On / About SONG  7/7/2015 11:22:43 PM
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  237.     

A Deleted Version

I love to hear the song
But not by my ear
The song is penned for some body
Who turns the song towards me?
After a few of serious songs
This melody seeks to set right me.
My heart longs to hear the song, however
Sing to kill me.
When I hear the hymn of the song
I feel I am in battlefield with no foes,
And
Rain is nowhere….but I am in rain.
Don’t sing for me-because
I got the upsetting curse not to listen this song.
My heart vehemently turns down the sound.
Carve the lyrics on my heart
By that
No humans perceive the sound of my heart’s whispering.
These absolute lines will be coming to my end
As a deleted version.
 
glorious alice

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  238.     

The Funeral

They played a slow, slow song that day
And walked in drab array;
They played a slow, slow song that day
As the casket was rolled away;
They played a slow, slow song that day
And my thoughts went astray;
To the times forgotten and the times long past
To memories I thought would never last
They played a slow, slow song that day
Perhaps to keep our sadness at bay;
They played a slow, slow song that day
All the birds began to sing
From the robin to the blue jay;
They played a slow, slow song that day
We cried and wept for lack of what to say;
They played a slow, slow song that day
And promised the pain would stop,
And we thought...
It may
 
T.L. Vladalescu

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  239.     

My Song...

As the Sun rises, my heart starts act like an oscillating gong,
And all thing become wrong,
Whenever, I do not listen ‘My Song'.
How to tell her that these things always happens; not often,
When I got my song ‘Shown',
My heart beat gets a different tone,
How to tell her, without her; I am all alone.
Till my Death, I will have that fear,
But you have to understand dear,
That you are the one, who gives me; Cheer.
My Song in the form of ‘You',
Makes me completely ‘New',
Like the fresh morning ‘Dew'.
How,
My Song comes in my life,
And makes me her type,
And only by listening My Song I can say that now ‘I am Ripe'.
Getting My Song in my life is just a ‘Boon',
I consider that ‘I and My Song' is a kind of ‘Balloon',
Which will be on the top and will shine bright as the ‘Full Moon'.
Oh! why again the Sun is rising so soon…

By Prateek Khard.
 
Prateek Khard

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  240.     

Malcolm Brodie

Malcolm Brodie is the Poet Laureate of Phillip Island and to the bardic culture he belong
He is immersed in the bardic tradition and he is one well versed in rhyme and song
In this the nuclear age he is a rare gem a precious link to a literary history
That flourished in a World that was different before the onset of technology.

At song and music festivals you will see Malcolm and with him will be his devoted Ann
A friendly and a well enlightened fellow there is a lot to like about the man
He recites poems and sings old songs with a passion and to the old tradition he is true
You will not meet many like Malcolm Brodie his type of man now rare and only few.

Some seem to think that the past is gone forever and that the old songs too died with the death of rhyme
But Malcolm Brodie he will tell you different for he's one who doesn't bow to father time
He helps to keep the past linked to the present and he takes me back to when I was quite young
Back in the fifties around the old fire grate the songs he sing now by old men then sung.

He is the Poet Laureate of Phillip Island a man who is immersed in song and lore
And he sings and recites at song and music festivals and at the end for him a loud encore
All around and beyond old South West Gippsland not many who've not heard of him by name
The World needs more people like Malcolm Brodie and he is one well worthy of his fame.
 
Francis Duggan

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