Ian O

           The Hat                                                        

                                                           Torn and tattered

                                                           And well used with

                                                          Its fading brown felt.    

                                                         The stains from soot

                                                         And rain. The beautiful             

                                                  Haircut that it once rested on.

                                         Now it sitting alone in a box in an old closet,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

                                               thinking of adventures it once had.           

                                                  


                                 Night

 

                        It surrounds us,         

                        It engulfs us,

                        The silence betrays us.  

                        Sounds of darkness, gloom and glory,

                        Predators stalk and prey flee,

                        Shutters close and doors shut,

                        Locks click.

                        Robbers prowl.

                        Rogues lurk.

                        Coins flash.

                        Cards flip.

                        Wallets switch from hand to hand.                                                                           

                        It swirls around us like a cloak,

                        Taking over

                        Our thoughts,

                        Our movements,

                        Our words.

                        But then from deep inside that veil,

                        A sudden spark of sunlight shows.

                        The veil falls back.

                        The world is safe in light again.   

 


                              The Banjo    

                                              An unsung hero of wood and metal  

                                              An American

                                              pastime a

                                              country song  

                                              It’s upbeat rhythm in the hot summer sun.   

                                              Its mellow tone at the golden

                                              Sunset.

                                              And a grieving tone      

                                              In the still black midnight.

A farmyard

                                              Instrument

                                              An American tone.    

 


 

The Beach                                                          

                                           The curling waves and endless blue  

                                           The sandy beaches too good to be true    

                                           Umbrellas sprout with iron roots    

                                           People laugh and people yell

                                           Their screaming voices fill the air    

                                           But when the orange sunset comes  

                                           People leave often seeking exotic food

      

 


The Piano             

With its yellowing keys

Its fading black paint job

Bench with only three legs

Sheet music strewn atop

Covered with a thick layer of dust    

And the hall surrounding the piano

Where the compositions of Bach, Beethoven and Brahms

Were played but now no song   

Can be heard just the sound of the traffic  

Outside

            

 

taking over our thoughts our        

                        Movements our words

                        But then from deep inside that veil   

                        A sudden spark of sunlight shows.

                        The veil falls back

                        The  World is safe in light again.                 

                                                                                                                                   

 

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