We’ve been tasked this week by our maestro Tim Lihoreau to come up with a sonnet for the Tyrannochorus weekly ZoomChoir. I don’t think I’ve written this type of poem since English lessons at school. It felt like too much of a challenge but I read a couple from The Bard and I think I’ve got their measure (yeah, right!).
So my first public sonnet laments the lack of live music any of us can rehearse or perform right now and also, perhaps, the notion of problems one might experience with one’s sense of hearing having been involved with relatively loud live music for years and years…
Anyway, it’s entitled “The strings I’ve strummed are wearing thin”. I hope I’ve not got my iambic pentameters mixed up with my alembic pentagons
“The strings I’ve strummed are wearing thin”
The strings I’ve strummed are wearing thin
The words I’ve sung feel like they’ve failed
The notes and chords that once echoed from within
Against an empty bar room wall now descaled
The practice of arpeggiated riffs somehow betrayed
Faced with silence in the midst of night
Reverberates no more against clefs unplayed
A wall of sound now noise so white
And yet in music, there may still lie some peace
Though sound is lost this passion still brings heat
The melody inside that catches quick won’t cease
Despite the ritardando slowing of the beat
A solo flight must glide on to take a bow
If harmony in chorus remains but a memory for now