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Listening to Tippett

 

That’s not me standing there;

It’s not my face I see.

The music is so beautiful

And I yearn to be so free.

 

I want to float up on those notes,

So sweet and gently lilting;

I want to sail in heaven’s boats

And feel the blue sky tilting.

 

Never more will I feel this way;

A unique moment has now passed.

He has nourished my perfect day;

Banality now seems so vast.

🌷(6)

◄ The Red Marriage

Spring ►

Comments

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Stephen Gospage

Wed 17th Feb 2021 17:28

Thank you for the comment, Keith and to everyone for the likes. Sometimes, hearing a beautiful piece of music for the first time can create an experience which is hard to describe and difficult to recapture.Perhaps once we encounter perfection, or near-perfection, everything else, as the advert used to say, is just toothpaste.

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keith jeffries

Tue 16th Feb 2021 17:58

Interesting words of a revelatory nature. I find this poem intriguing.
Thank you for this
Keith

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Stephen Gospage

Tue 16th Feb 2021 17:36

This was written many years ago. The inspiration to polish and finish it came from listening to Michael Tippett's great, late work 'The Rose Lake'.

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