Harp
In the highlands of kites and rain pipes
an ancient harp stands upright
The willow tree that has weeped for thousands of years
shaped its sturdy bones
Copper and iron left behind by the past warriors
were thinned and twisted into its tough strings
The pain of being conquered
was wrapped around slender strings, congealed
And the longing for freedom
plucks Ballard perpetually
© 23 days ago
Like (9)
Likes: Healing Hands, August Waves, C.M Fairchild, kaye, SunsOnFire, Fair Sunshine, Prathibha.E, Tobias.kongggggg, Seldom OrneverTo reply, click a comment.
August Waves - Wow. You say so much here. I feel the same way. A burn to do something. A song to write. A letter written to a corrupted official. A distressed artist
hanging upside down trying to help turn his country men around. That ending really drives it home as well. Inspiration drips from the roof lip, I hear it tapping in this poem. Awesome writing. Nicely penned
6 hours ago
SunsOnFire - loved how you intertwine history and the harp/music... and its song continues... thank you
7 hours ago
Fair Sunshine - Great pen Vibrato about my favourite instrument, with good imagery and insightfulness. Hope enjoying life hrre, regards, Gordon
Lovely write!
Prathibha.E - Very good choice of words !
9 hours ago
Seldom Ornever - This is such a vibrant image. That the harp remembers the weeping of its former life as a tree, and the pain of warfare in its strings... excellent.
9 hours ago
C.M Fairchild - this is a very nice poem "the willow tree has weeped for thousands of years" is my favorite line.
Lovely job
23 days ago
Front page pick 9 hours ago
