There are times I hear the lyrics,
Hear the grand melodic sound,
Hear them in the pearly distance
Ere they ever come to ground.
I can’t grasp the words – they’re subtle;
For the symphony plays soft,
Playing notes that are the noblest
That come floating from aloft.
I’m convinced by that slight tasting,
Little sip of sparkling wine,
That a masterpiece is coming,
Running gentle through my mind.
If it’s never put on paper,
I, poor poet, am at fault,
For the words are there for taking,
Just above in heaven’s vault.
Still, the magnum opus marches,
Treading softly through my mind;
I must strive to write the stanzas
For the hearing of mankind.
© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2012.