Another Artistic Thread - POEMS

[White Raven]

.:: Oh, Like Violins ::.

In days of blue
Before violins sang in my dreams
When frost's subtle painter's hand
Drew his fingers across glass at night;

When ravens sat atop high cathedrals
Its stone walls never tended but ne'er forgotten
Before the rain fell across endless black sheens of feathers
Down the slight curvature of a near-straight bill
There was you

Kissing my dreams like so many crimson violins
Held in the fingers of the master
Because before the days of endless azures
There was an era of red

A red horse stands upon a hill
Fetlock high in cataclysm
Unaware of the dragons soaring above him!

He is the colours of the last hand of trees
The last one to fall amongst his dead brethren
He is the colour of the purest hand of the tree
He is the rain snaking down the windows too

For before the days of blue
He was my soul
You were the tether, my beauteous concerto of a man
My teacher, my lover, my captor
And I loved it, my capriccio of days
You were the most red of all the shining violins

You slid atop the back of the unruly stallion that was I
Red and heaving
He ne'er tried to throw you off
You rode past the cathedral of ravens that was my sanity
For you, my sweetest, you
You became the days of blue.