|
Sonnet ‘Drought’
This is my first piece I've put here, so I decided to put it here rather than in the poetry section to get some advice and feedback.
O muse, you have forsaken me to live
Tonight as Tantalus; I yearn to drink
The sweet, refreshing nectar of your chords,
To bathe in limpid pools of melody.
Did Mozart float by gondola to break
The stillness of Venetian water-ways?
Did Handel drink to lubricate the wild
And winding channels to his pen?
I know for fact Tchaikovsky met his end,
As well as fame, in one inspiring cup;
The rolling wide Danube to slake his thirst
And break his heart and take his life away.
Yet I sit in arid, parching pain,
And wait to irrigate the next refrain.
|
