I Wonder How Many People in This City from “The Spice-Box of Earth” by Leonard Cohen
I wonder how many people in this city
Live in furnished rooms.
Late at night when i look out at the buildings
I swear I see a face in every window
Looking back at me
and when I turn away
I wonder how many go back to their desks
and write this down.
This traditional New Year’s anthem is based on an 18th century Scottish poem by Robert Burns.
‘Auld Lang Syne’
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?
And days of auld lang syne, my dear,
And days of auld lang syne.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?
We twa hae run aboot the braes
And pu’d the gowans fine.
We’ve wandered mony a weary foot,
Sin’ auld lang syne.
Sin’ auld lang syne, my dear,
Sin’ auld lang syne,
We’ve wandered mony a weary foot,
Sin’ auld ang syne.
We twa hae sported i’ the burn,
From morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin’ auld lang syne.
Sin’ auld lang syne, my dear,
Sin’ auld lang syne.
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin’ auld lang syne.
And ther’s a hand, my trusty friend,
And gie’s a hand o’ thine;
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness
Use the talents you possess, for the woods
would be very silent if no birds sing
except the best.
– Henry Van Dyke
(internet photo)
Yahoo, yee-haw, yippee-ki-yay
another Stampede is underway.
The city is buzzing
with tourists from afar,
chuck wagons and horses continue to star.
Cowboy hats, and cowboy boots
two-step, stomp and dance to wee hours,
the midway offers spinning rides
and exotic food to devour.
It’s a great big party
for one and all,
Calgary’s Stampede –
better than a Game of Thrones ball.
(internet photo)
my fingers stretch
to play notes
on taut strings
my husband yawns
creating his own song
Music tapped at my window this morning.
A wet beat ran down my pane and dripped into my dreams.
I awoke with a song in my head, a moisture chorus
surrounding my world in a watery ditty.
Rain dropped and trickled,
plopped and splashed,
It dribbled and drizzled,
sprinkled and sprayed.
Like an amateur band jamming for fun, enjoying simple play,
the showers continued their invitation to come out;
to hum in the mizzle, and stomp in the mist,
splash a rhythm in puddles and create my own tune;
an impromptu session, special performance
with Madame Nature.
The following poem was inspired by an alliteration challenge shared by Jarrod on Haunted Lullaby.
Magnificent mountain melody,
otherworldly outdoor orchestra.
Rocks raucously rumble round,
sweet sibilant serenade.
Antlers automatically attune.
Turbulent tumbling tympanic trees
wrestle wild white-water.
Bees buzz bristling bears.
Cougar canticle calmly climbs cliffs.
Eagle echoes eerily.
Dancing drumming deer
join jovial jamming junket.
Visceral vibrating vibrato.
Trees sway gracefully.
They nod and bend
up and down,
back and forth
to drumming thunder
rumbling
across a dull sky.
Minuet dancers
bobbing socially
to each other.
Dark green pine
wearing
brown cone corsages
lean close
to perky willow
holding tender lush buds.
Wide skirts
of pale poplar branches
swoosh
as they rise above
saplings,
excited to reveal
fresh, new
burgeoning leaves.
Wind skips lightly,
hip hopping
amongst the shrubs
to join the fun.
Elegant Mother Earth
blesses the affair
with a sprinkle
of rain
encouraging her
guests to show off
their finery.
Snowy owl watches,
perched on a weatherworn
barn,
her feathers only slightly
ruffled.
Jellyfish pulse
swaying to ocean rhythms
seaside music blares
They dance
a beautiful dance
as only two exquisitely familiar can.
Age old friends move,
comfortable in each others orbit,
no words necessary.
Arms length apart
graceful glides take place
while chaos reigns around them.
Echo of guns
aimed in the name of a cause
are forgotten for a moment
in the gentleness of the dance.
Slowly, smoothly,
glowing bright then dim,
tides rise, sunsets fade,
each accept the other, waiting in time.
Hungry, homeless
nomads search,
then pause in witness
of the familiar dance.
The ancient duo outlive, outlast,
wars and famine,
great empires and floods.
Steps take them on a path
travelled around
and around,
then around once again.
Their orbit flows
with continuous turns,
an inseparable pair.
Earth and moon,
fluid partners,
inspire devotion
moving along
to their own tune.
ScribbleDartsfromtheHeart 