To Black and Red

to a composition reviving one back from harsh times and to my guitar and to the night...my love

And it came to me, then:
Pluvial silence and breaker owls under the glimmering light,
Forlorned by September clouds or ragged up plumy sky,
Glistening, frigid charcoal and indented grimace of ignitable mandolin.
Nigh; a retired misanthrope hating, paltering himself,
Sighs. All toilsome tolerance strummed away 'fore his eyes.

Heavy eyes with heavier drops,
Not of the rain, by now its friskiness was gone,
Striding in introspection and in stumbling sally,
Truly, groped from fringes of nymph of night,
A nurturing, osculating, sublimely built rhyme;
Black of off the deep void and Red of the musical smeech.

A melancholy composition; strained off mark from a lusty nymph
Invoking jest to reimburse her with otto of Muse herself.

Author's Note

Muse is the godess of poetry..
and ofcourse if there's something you think would be above or mustn't be.. i'll gladly love to hear from your review

Reviews

[Cherrie Palmer]

I like it. It's just abstract enough to be whimsical. But not without meaning.
I did have to read it twice to hear its rhythm. Once I found that your creation flowed.
You have well used word groupings that add character to your images.
I'm glad I read this one first.

[7's]

Loved you enjoyed it..
Believe me the first verse was a true event and from next it is an ode like to them i mentioned above...

do you know 'Black and Red' was named by me to an actual composition i played that night

[Cherrie Palmer]

That is very cool.