A bunch of random notes
plunked out wildly on the keyboard.
I, IV, V
There's no set pattern,
no sheet music, no chords
no wrong notes.
The music races,
almost impossible to follow
but all you can do is
continue the melody,
as it rises and falls,
and enjoy the feeling of being
lost in the sounds.
2 comments:
I like the poem, and I like the "I, IV, V," which only music people would really get. However, as you know, I think of love as simply the harmony in life's song, with romantic love being the sometimes dissonant and always distinct harmonic line... anyway. You could surely also say that love is a melody line by itself, flowing, constant, unpredictable, and often indefinite in its composition but definite in its presence.
I LIKE THIS!!!
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