Song for a Street Musician

joshua-bell-special-pageSong for a Street Musician”

So heavenly, from other worlds, notes stray
in station of the Metro, Washington.
Majestic music fills the vast arcade
as people hurry on hear Mendelssohn
but Bach is hushed as morning rush has won
though Joshua plays with all his heart and soul.
With street musician’s image, he is shun
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.

An anxious crowd rush by; they cannot stay
to hear this troubadour play on and on.
A fear of being late seems to allay
a man who leans against the wall as one
who listens to the sweet, sustaining run
as Bell now bends his bow to charm; cajole.
Some listen with the morning’s rising sun
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.

There’s magic to be heard at break of day.
Notes float about cold faces, blank and wan.
How busy are the echoed strings that play.
How fast the people moving hither-yon
as Joshua Bell, musician; an icon
with waving bow, his violin extols
the morning air; his music’s lexicon
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.

Envoi:
His precious Stradivari’s a beacon
as seven people stop to hear the whole
‘Midsummer Nights’ bright music for a reason
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.

The Bee’s Ballade

no anxious bee“The Bee’s Ballade”

Mysterious, communion of the bee.

His joy; his voice a welcoming alarm

for flowers. His madness filled with fealty

whose body, mind and soul relentless, swarm

mid petals where his wings will do no harm.

Behold this busy thief; his game of bliss.

So drunk with nectar, bumblebee informs

sweet love needs not a reason to exist!

Men may not tell you why they go to sea.

Might hope for bold adventure be the charm?

He ventures forth. By his own loyalty

protects, defends against that crushing storm.

The sea confronts and causes him to mourn

and fracture all his soul with bare, cold fist.

Yet, spite of all old Ahab’s whale deforms,

sweet love needs not a reason to exist!

Oh, Love is like the stars, far-flung and free.

So bountiful in beauty, they disarm.

They blaze before our sight, bright symphony

with fiery heart.  They yearn and spin and form.

They’re sucked into black holes may not be warm;

their soul in coldness cast; yet they persist

as logical as love torn arm-from-arm.

Sweet Love needs not a reason to exist.

L’Envoi:

The bee, the man, the star; sonata form

the music of crazed things.  An ageless tryst,

it makes no sense; this heart in worship’s dorm.

Sweet Love needs not a reason to exist.

(Different from the English Ballad, the French Ballade form is difficult because of the rhyming.  There must be 14 “B” rhymes!)

“Ballade for a Street Musician”

Joshua Bell

“Ballade for a Street Musician”

So heavenly, from other worlds, notes stray

in station of the Metro, Washington.

Great music moves along a vast arcade

as people hurry on hear Mendelssohn.

But Bach is hushed as morning rush has won

though Joshua plays with all his heart and soul.

A street musician’s image most may shun

as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.

An anxious crowd walk by.  They cannot stay

to hear this troubadour play on and on.

That fear of being late his tunes allay

for one who leans against the wall with phone

and listens to the sweet, sustaining tone.

Then Bell must bend his bow to charm; cajole.

One listens as arpeggios now moan

as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.

There’s wonders to be heard at break of day.

Notes float among their faces, blank and wan.

How busy are the echoed strings that sway;

how fast the people, moving hither-yon.

So, Joshua Bell, musician; an icon

with bending bow, his violin extols

and sweeps the air; his music’s lexicon

as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.

Envoi:

A Stradivari is, to some, a beacon

yet only seven stop to hear the whole

of Paganini’s music for a reason

as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.