A rough sound was polished until it became
a smoother sound, which was polished until
it became music.
...
Read full text
beautiful poem penned you are //pure mind can hear the enchantment music of nature and pitiable scream of oppressed world
well-written........ Congrats on being selected....+++++++++++++++++++++++++
A rough sound was polished until it became a smoother sound, which was polished until it became music. Then the music was polished until it became the memory of a night in Venice when tears of the sea fell from the Bridge of Sighs, which in turn was polished until it ceased to be and in its place stood the empty home of a heart in trouble. - - - - - - - - - - -Wow- - - Such a wonderful poem having the power to mend the troubling hearts and creating music from sighs ! ! ! ! Love this poem.
Hauntingly beautiful. This is perfection in imagery, suspense, and contemplative progression. Life begins again, even after it seems it could no longer.
The music is always there in the air. Very nice. Thanks for sharing and congrats.
I just love this poem its rhythms remind me of the figure in my mind of music always swirling and constantly turning back onto and into itself, then out again, air and water, air and water: like Roethke's boy, maybe he'll come back as a dolphin or a lion.