Cello-Ache

A bouncing, vibrating, rhythm,
eyes closed tight
whilst eagle-soaring inside.
Twisting within the dark,
sombre melody,
like fingertips playfully
dancing with candle flame.
Emotional gear-changes,
and the mind’s eye
is off down a crooked path…
to a Lighthouse, a Graveyard,
a Midnight Shore
of ebony and moonlight.
A switch, climbing and following
the slight footholds
of the scaling music.
Peak and crest…
look, The Summerlands
are adorned in Autumnal colours.
Arch-slide like a child,
cloud-bouncing notes,
plucking and snapping,
the race is back on!
Impossible, intense,
twists and turns…
the dams are bursting.
Shuddering climax
upon the horizon
and the bellows of your soul
are a raging, riot of fire.
Tipping, swaying, unbalance,
the rowing boat of your senses
is rocking manically…
as the audio magic cascades you,
back once more, to solid ground.

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world. He yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books Scribblings Of A Madman (Lit Fest Press); Poetry From The Nearest Barstool; and a split poetry book The Raven And The Vagabond Heart with Bethany W Pope. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.