The Least Suspicious Concertina
A drooping, stealthful melody
Encroached the dying light
As if a molten saxophone
Were pouring, from a height
The semi-quavers hovered
The breves, in sultry sway
Meandered through the evening
Impetuous display
A raging, turgid rhythm
Assailed the wanton ear
As if a wilting harpsichord
Were playing somewhere near
The counterpoint, prolific
With coloured woven threads
Usurped our placid reason
And echoed through our heads
Yet hark!
In the dark
Where silence dwells
Can it be Bach?
Mein Odem ist schwach?
Wagnerian heils
A ghostly, wrinkled coda
Composed while in a trance
As if a steaming timpani
Enflamed the dead to dance
As if, in Diss so silent
In dulcet morbid tones
The Muses, or their skeletons,
Were rattling their bones
| Contributors: | N, Roland, Beefy, F. |
| Poem finished: | 27th August 2004 by Roland. |