MUSIC

On the distant horizon
Gleams the emerald valley,
Before the castellated partition;
And from that radiant dale,
Many oboes play.

Drunk with the sun, a gypsy in the hay,
I can hear the bramble of the fields caroling;
I drink in the mystical ale,
And the trumpets, glorious,
Sound their rapturous triumphs
Where an angel's whited wing,
Gilded with adamantine bands,
Ascends over the holly green lands
In the luminosity of the late, fall day.

The heavens beam a golden ray
Upon the alabaster statues,
Clad with viridescent vines.

And the starlit mandolins,
In concert with the azure sky,
Blend with the somnolent violins,
As the redolent rubies
Of the daylight die;

Then, nascent, the night,
With its violet sonatas,
Rises from pianos in the autumn wood;

And all the majestic Shangrilas
Enchant me in the ecstatic flood
Of a languorous bassoon
Which leaves me astonished
Beneath the Ossianic moon.

* From Visionary Wanderings By John Lars Zwerenz
https://www.amazon.com/Visionary-Wanderings-John-Lars-Zwerenz/dp/1469162490