eclipse Posted November 19, 2012 Posted November 19, 2012 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. Quote
Benjamin Posted November 24, 2012 Posted November 24, 2012 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 Quote
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