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CRESCENDO
by
scott brostrom |
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A Crescendo
Listen; learn words written in rhythm you can feel.
Hear the words; feel their sounds;
Feel their meanings, sounds bring feelings.
Feel the ranges rising red as words are sounds heard not read instead
Does that make you want to scratch your head?
Perhaps then, focus not on red as these words are heard not read instead.
Hear my yellows, feel their mellow? My purples sound so sweet,
Like preachers preaching from the pulpit how Jesus washed her feet.
Seems to me preachers the culprit, of good/bad beats.
That seems too black and white, so heaven and hell, too neat.
Do not ponder too long on what I may say, instead hear my R’s tread in trills of grey.
All I intend to do is gather sounds to play,
Like strings on a guitar, strings on guitars do lay.
You feel the sounds my guitar makes?
Then go now and forever read this way!!!
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--Submitted by scottbrostrom on 2013-11-30.
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mlturtle@earthlink.net:
Your poem is a rainbow of surround sound-color!I scratch my head to your reds, delight in your greys, muse at your
blues and feel the jello in your yellow!
Hats off to Crescendo!
Dr. Seuss
Posted 12/27/2013 08:48 AM
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