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Lost in the echoes of love.The orchestra waits, poised before expectant crowd, Drums and cymbals spring to life, bold and loud, Cellos and strings create a canopy, a magic cloud, The brass slides in, triumphant tones of the proud. Yet it was not these instruments that moved my heart, I am touched, indeed drawn away by a simple pipe, It carries the song of yesteryears sweet moment of love, A touching melody drifting slowly across oceans vast. Sliding to crescendo, then left to gently drift, A haunting tone, sounds of expectations lost, Notes projected with the deep fires of passion, Now touching us with images of love and emotion. The pipe raised, its shrill call awakens my heart, My heart asks, has their love become forever lost? No - their music of love still circles the globe, Carried by each note of that pipe's haunting tones. The musician's lips gently caress that pipe, Floating deep passion onto the wind, My heart is melted by those lost lover's sighs, I touch her lips, lost in the echoes of love. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To enjoy this poem, listen to Andre Rieu play, My heart will go on from the movie Titanic. (Andre Rieu live in Dublin) Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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