Mozart Symphony 39 Poem by John Rickell

Mozart Symphony 39



Mozart, I antiscipate or think I can.
You suggest, imply, leave the rest
to my imagination, I wait......
A discord I know will overwhelm
build me up, surprise and please.
Making love so many times
has no surprises, that is the joy,
one discordant moment, a bliss
jarring the soul, exquisite pleasure
wakes and echoes still.....
passing to the library
shelves of memory.

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Friday, March 7, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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