17 April 2012
Poetry is like a musical;
Words upon a page, that Maybe an Actor would see, and reenact upon a stage.
Trying hard to follow script, with words like notes; each have their own sound to play,
Mixing and becoming as one; Harmony. Then the scene might take a turn for the worse;
Vivid crescendoes of Drama that seem never to end...But No! With a fluttering forte the frantic fury of feelings dim, to finish, with a gentle piano And a curtain fall;
Behind the red velvet, the actor hears; A roar of approval , And that bursting splitting sound, like a thousand fortissimo castanets.
Then, all Is silent; once again - mere words on a page; Diminuendo, the end
Like A Musical • Opuss № I