The Musical Muse

The Musical Muse,
flies on the wings of the wind
Through slivers of time,
through places We've been.
Bringing shadows of them
back to life once again.

"And On the winged, booted feet
of mercury's, quick."

He is here and he's gone
symphonies wick
to the candle still burning,
its life through the mists.

The Musical Muse
Plays the music of time
he slips and he slides
Scales,
G Clefts,
and climbs.

Tippy toeing down streets,
trodes and retreats.
Of tempos and beats
his melodies speak,
with the Dream
and the Dreamers alike,
that which
He seeks.

Echoes, never die,
they are reborn and reply
to the staffs and the notes
He has kept and rewrote.
His melodies new, though its soul,
it is true,
Was born long ago,
like the wind and the snow
and then,
'Twas spilt into them
to bring new life,
once again.

The Musical Muse
skimming over the seas
splashing down through the waters,
the mists and the trees.
Like the waves of the breeze
Down unto the grail's, greeny grass.

Now, these notes filing past.
Falling down as they will,
raining down, they do spill
and our wishing wells, fill.

Then Rising again,
singing their songs, they ascend
with the Musical Muse to the skies,
once again.
To the stars in the night,
they whisper,
ring and enlight.
Playing chords and the strains
of the once was and lain
and even now, it remains
it evokes yet, reclaims
the spirits we hold,
the stories we've told.
Cause he's thought it
and brought it
the present sought
and gotten,
Not forgotten,
we got it.

In rivulets of lace,
Majesty's pace,
whirling and twirling,
Marching and flight,
Visions of Sugarplums,
night time and fright.
Daydreams and Nightschemes,
it's all living there,
entwined in the music
and
the magic that's there.
And we hum its refrain
It's not lost, it's regained.
We breath its sweet lung once again.
as it's sung.
For once heard, it's not lost,
never dies like the frost.
Or the snow from the skies,
or the rainfall it implies.



NO, The music is there
in the four winds which share
time, rhyme,
and space.

Sun and Souls,
meet, greet
and embrace.
Like solstices and lace,
designs etched across the skies of
God's face.

Swept amongst us from Somewhere
that only He and Thee knows,
The Musical Muse
lives to write and compose.
With instruments Played
by he and God's prose,
The Musical Muse breathes
and believes,
in
these scores
he's composed!

Yes, He whispers of them,
brings their breath once again
carrying tunes in a bag
filled with notes that he's snagged
from all of the skies of those times.
Spilling through our heavens
verses, poetry, rhymes!

Raindrops that fall,
these songs to us all.
That have made people cry
or rejoice,
fall,
and fly.
And the Musical Muse has risen,
again.
He's flown, and has gone
to his home in the sky.
Where the music won't die
and the souls of all men
rise again and again,
When he walks among them
brings their songs once again.

To us all,
everyone,
he is singing,
has sung
all of them,
everyone,
with each note that he's rung!.

Remembered and Sung,
For once again,
He's begun.

We Listen, We feel,
the music is real,
its life's own sweet song

Composed,
Yet, Again,

And He's Gone!

May 16, 1999

By 

LaMythica
Linda A. Copp

The midi, "Midevil", was composed and performed by Keith Spillman
to hear more of his beautiful compositions please visit Tunes From The Little Kitchen!