Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Boreegard's Newest Poetic Offering

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

Every Tuesday night in the summer,
As things cooled down from the day’s heat,
And the Katydids and Peepers started up
Their measured choruses in our woodland valley,
Two old men would get together to share a bite,
And a nice bottle of wine.

Age had brought them not only a love of fine music,
But then too a loss of hearing.
They would krank up the volume to a pitch,
That boomed and echoed the vinyl renderings,
Throughout the forest and valley,
As they sat on the darkened front porch,
Listening to a little night music.

Perhaps it would be an evening of Leonard Warren,
Belting out la Forza del Destino,
Ending with a puckish Harry Lauder singing,
Just a Wee Deoch and Doris.
And while not all the neighbors cared for these concerts,
Most of us welcomed them.

The old men are long gone now,
Dust to dust.
But on a cooling August evening,
One can still sit on the front porch,
Listening to the tree frogs and katydids,
As they carry on,
Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.

MIke O'Neil 

aka Boreegard
September 9, 2014