Quartetto Gelatto


Draw of the bow,
across the oboe sky,
iced creamed violin embraces the pitch,
of cups, cakes, and gentle enthusiasm of determination.

Wheeling terns of phrase,
silver buttons, silver keys,
silver notes caressing darlings,
jiving you and me to viewpoints and rest stops for swooning oblivion,
pienna light houses along the banks of existence.

Beauty captured in ball gowns and jewelled shoes of history,
gowns swishing over the mosaic of love we search for,
gliding in rowboats of quiet despair,
upon loon lakes, tears falling gently.

Tired elders roving forth from their graves,
to dance upon toes and heels.
Gila monster and swaying cobra arpeggios.
Gorgeous traditional notes willingly caressed,
in time, in time, in time
for memorials to guilded humanity.

A toss and a toss of hair,
eyes that search old hallways,
of our sweetest flowered romance.

Mesmerizing moments,
manes of dream-like horses
galloping gladly to golden reflections.

Ice cream for the house,
linen table cloths,
bread and roses.


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