Rainbow's Voice— Violet To Red

Vivid and vibrant was my dreams' canvas For long awaiting to welcome its cause, A mild breeze now wafting softly ashore, O dreams come to open my heart's closed door. Dreams came but lasted bare for a moment, And vanished no sooner like rainbows sent, Remaining scattered like clouds that them make, And the tears shed, if stored, might fill a lake. Call of dreams muted like a mourning heart Has no voice like violin's wailing start, Broken as if for eons, tired its string, Nor violin nor heart could ever sing. Both did try tired interventions, though, Nor music nor cool breeze ever did flow. O you had once the music created, You were the conductor who it once led. It's you if its tuneful voice is muted, Give it rainbow's voice—violet to red. _________________________________________________ Musings | 04.02.14 |