Blinky lights flicker as strings render chords
Bridging the break from the 1st to the 4th
7ths and 9ths bring tension resolved
When released from the grasp of suspended tones
As the grit and gravel spread out before me
The fallen limbs befitted with moss
The northern breeze unsettled the branches
That formed the arbor under which I crossed
With bark lined walls befallen with debris
The turn up ahead towards the water’s edge
Could take the ground from under your feet
Turn grit to plank over the waterfall’s crest
The impervious rumble over rocks so smooth
Down the bank towards the weathered ‘stead
Through stitches of roots like saplings’ feet
Would cause a near tumble of foot over head
On a path full of grit and gravel I tread
Towards my own haven, evermore I’ve been led
It was the night before last
that I stepped into the kitchen
I'm thirsty I thought
and my mind I've got a stitch in
Racing for the fridge
at a pace no one's beatin'
fill my belly with ale
I should get something to eat then
Much to my chagrin
that's the last clang I'll hear now
The fridge is but dry
when it comes to the beer stow
What a fool lost his plunder
'cause his mind was but under
the foley once asunder
the vale the week's blunder
Fat tire's the choice
Not a bike but a brew
a delicious new belgium
styled ale to chew
Not chewy like most
but delicious to boast
or toast with a glass
in your hand to the host
I could keep on going
but the toffee's not done
toffee for banoffee
will be had 'til there's none
The fridge wins again in it's quest for glory
this silly old tale could be told as a story
at bedtime for children but not about ale
as little kids aren't ready for this little tale
I could see the skeletal shadow of the trees tonight
As the moon shone with an awesome air of light so bright.
Reflecting off the snow the dark hue shone through
Moving, swaying like waltzing crooked fingers urging you to come closer.
Drifts of snow shifted under the weight of the wind
While the light wanes and fades into black.
A pine bough lopped from the main branch
Dragged through the snow
Leaving green prickly bread crumbs
Almost begging for new life as a wreath.
Bedtime calls when the moon is at its summit
Drawing the covers up to your chin like the water to the shore.
Goodnight wolf moon.
Meeting Ellis Paul, Vance Gilbert and the amazing group of people on the Cape this summer was a jaw-dropping time full of inspiration and mind clearing thoughtfulness. I was blown away by the talent and community we built while staving off dehydration due to the heat and a lack of air conditioning. I can't wait to do it all again.
As the warm breeze blew through doors ajar,
our minds in full hum unfurled, unfolded, unobstructed.
Tasteful licks stuck in fits, unstrung from our cases untangled in bits...
With ideas buzzing through our minds
Words being thrown to paper
Drawing upon another chapter in my book
a day or two later
The freezer felt like a respite from the heat
But the minds together as one came to a heady brew
I began this adventure alas we all did too
To spur on inspiration amid scores of ideas anticipation
A free write started the flowing of ink out of our minds
the flow, a blink, drawings distorted,
submerged of the unsorted sort
As it began it ended, the fingers soar and voices hoarse
From tasteful licks stuck in fits, unstrung from our cases untangled in bits...
Brian Theoret | Notes in the Sandbox
a collection of writing, reflection, inspiration...