Lost & Found

I've recently been stormed by an unprecedented "sensory storm". There has been a rhythm awakened within me like never before, seeking out each picture-perfect moment in my life with a vengence. I feel a growing hunger within my soul to capture each of these moments, short though they might be, to immortalise them in words and lyrical portraits. My words are still clumsy and my lyrical arsenal blunt and limited, but the soul had become ablaze and molten.

The poet has awakened, the romantic revived and the cynic allied. Now, I'm a mess but I'm strangely excited about being one. If my rhymes don't make sense, perhaps they're not supposed to -- just appreciate them as they are, if you can. We are all poets, of different rhyme and time; perhaps we will eventually pick our way through the lost to the found.

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LOST & FOUND

A new muse.
Vintage.
Lost, searching and bemused.
Found, preoccupied and engaged.

Moments like stardust,
Scattered on marble and ivory;
An ochestra of two,
Sing a beautiful story.

Art so rarely personified,
No canvas, no screen, no bright light;
Yet phantom strokes of subtle hands
Touch a soul and set a nerve alight.

Random in time, in space in memory,
Of questions, dreams and poetry.
A you, they form in technicolour light,
A smile, casual style and eyes of bright.

In the dim you play a tune to me,
A merchant of dreams, of tragic beauty.
A comforting sound we offer in return,
For a peace of mind we know we can turn.

In time, in age, in mystery,
Is your footstep on this plain of me.
Your casual twirls, flutter and prance,
Maketh in time, a beautiful dance.

You ask why I often dance,
To the march of duty, honour and chance.
I ask why you often sing,
To the beat of irony that life brings.

I am fast losing my fight to your rhyme,
An energy so simple -- this time.
I am drifting on in hope to find,
A promise land of your design.

Lost and Found
Found, yet lost.
Perhaps a choice,
But at what cost?


JKLM