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Poetry Magnum Opus



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My Grandfather-mining it made him blind and

mystery of music almost gave him sight

he would play by candle light and demand

rapture as eloquent as an owl in flight

from himself and the flame survives the wick

lighting up a reverie as he dreams about

his fruit tree and sees the best apples trick

the picker and remain hidden without

adequate desire. Grandfather played right through

the night a tree intoxicated by melody

yields it's finest fruit-an old man issues

lovely euphonies, a tree mining beauty

from a blind retiree, together they command

and pierce heaven's ear. A restless owl lands.

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The title may hold religious connotations for some. Your poem however is more of a warm eulogy. I like the musical inferences. Perhaps “ ...and demand/ a rapture eloquent as an owl in flight/ from himself...” Benjamin

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