This is a tongue in cheek attempt to bring audio poems to the forum. Now they may be a wee bit slow to load up, be patient after all it is still experimental.

http://www.davidburt.co.uk/documents/SummerRose.wav

Sweet Summer Rose

http://www.davidburt.co.uk/poems/docume ... um_000.wav
The Broken Drum

I got this message, sorry Daffyd

Cannot find server or DNS Error
Internet Explorer

I got there, but despite putting my speakers on high couldn't ehar it

Och well, it looks like there is one (or more) of us needs to do a bit of fine adjusting...... meanwhile back at the ranch let me entertain you with....

THE BROKEN DRUM

The leaden sky, lay heavy
On that bleak autumnal day
When the drummer boy was ordered
His battle drum to play.
The reveille that young boy sounded
Roused the soldiers from their sleep,
They made ready for the battle
And the rendezvous they must keep.
The dew lay heavy on their greatcoats,
Their breath vapourised in the air,
Whilst the greyness all around them
Only deepened their despair.

Another day had dawned
In this, the seige of Malacci,
How many more gallant fighting men
Would stumble, fall and die?
That day’s fighting started slowly
With a brief skirmish, here and there,
Then cannon started pounding
The smell of gunpowder, filled the air.
Grapeshot screamed, and tore through living flesh
Cannon ball, did break their ranks.
Bayonet and sabre scythed a bloody way
Through the centre and both flanks.


The walls of the city, crumbled
Beneath this onslaught of shot and steel
And that proud, bedraggled garrison
Was crushed, beneath the enemy heel.
When the battle sounds had dwindled
And the acrid smoke had cleared,
Both sides began to count the cost
It was more than they had feared.
The victors, although jubilant
Their losses had struck them dumb.
The vanquished had but one soul left
A boy, WITH A BROKEN DRUM.

Now I'm assuming you ken who the central character is here and the poetical tie in with the words.....

Reflected Thought

Sweet love what can I do about the pain
That restricts the very air within mime breast
Causing dizziness, dry throat, to this poor swain
Who wishes for thee nothing but the best?

Sweet love, I pray from thee, a glance,
A momentary meeting of our eyes,
Such encounter would set my heart a merry dance
And stars would light the darkness of the skies.

Sweet love, a word, from thy pert lips
Would fill my being with wonder and with awe
And thus all rationality eclipse
Until the sanity of my mind became no more.

Sweet love, if thou perchance did touch my hand
Such meeting would with lightning charge the air
Aurora Borealis would not be as grand
The world for me would not hold, a single care.

Sweet love, please relieve me of this pain
By making me sole recipient of your kisses,
Hear this my prayer, I pray each night in vain
That on reflection you may remember me, NARCISSUS.

........... and the last in this particular trilogy......

A Mother's Love

Embodied in the female form is a tenderness, a love that’s warm
And from conception we nestle there, to start our growth without a care.
We are nourished in this tender pod for a time determined by our God
And when that pregnancy term’s complete, we are delivered forth the world to meet
There’s pain and anguish at our birth, but for each Mother it has its worth
For now at last that Mum can see the results of this her pregnancy.

Washed and cleaned to look our best, we’re introduced to our Mother’s breast,
We suckle at this female form and draw from her a love that’s warm
And from those early days of life she protects us from the toil and strife.
A bond is formed, a love is born, the effort leaves her weak and worn.
The waiting and the pain is past she holds you in her arms at last,
A smile breaks out, she’s feeling good as she enters the realms of Motherhood.

The body warmth, the tender touch is what we learn to need so much,
The open arms, the gentle smile is what we crave for all the while.
When life deals us blows, one after another, who do we turn to if not Mother?
The comfort and warmth of that female form will shield us from the fiercest storm,
And so protected we venture forth to explore the world for what it’s worth.
We traverse the land and cross the sea, and then discover ecstasy.

We discover love of a different kind a love we’d sought but had yet to find
Embodied in a female form, a brand new love that’s sweet and warm
And so once more the wheel will turn, another child for love will yearn,
Another Mother will feel the pain as she brings a child into the world again.
The pattern’s set and we obey for that indeed is Nature’s way,
A Mother’s love to warm our heart, a Mother’s love gave us our start.

One word Daffyd - excellent.

These are wonderful Daffyd!

Many thanks peoples...... now I hope it has inspired others to have a go.

All Super Daffyd.

but 'A Mothers Love' was the main one for me.

The were beautiful Daffyd .... thank you

Over the Styx

The mist lay heavy o’er the lake
Like a wall of thick white cloud.
Swirling, wet and quite opaque
It did the ferryman, enshroud.
It hid from the weary pilgrim
The ferryman’s long gaunt face,
There was a silence in the interim
As the pilgrim took up his place.


The lake enjoined the River Styx
Which every soul must cross,
The small craft held no more than six
Plus a shackled albatross.
The bird, a millstone around it’s neck
Did perch upon the prow,
The pilgrim puzzled turned to the fore deck
A frown did crease his brow.

The ferryman stretched out his bony hand
It was his payment that he sought,
The payment demanded ‘ere they could land
Had made the passengers quite distraught.
The ferryman’s fee was their earthly soul
For that journey over the Styx.
Death was the claimant of this toll
From the unsuspecting six.

The pilgrim struck out and broke the chain
That restrained the large white bird.
The millstone cracked and broke in twain
And it’s cry of freedom, heard.
The ferryman withdrew his hand
The pilgrim moved to take the oar,
The mist dispersed, he could see the land
So brought his charges, safe to shore.

Oooh Daffyd - that was quite creepy - excellent though!!

Certainly got the goosepimples working

Apocalypse...at the gates of his imagination

He walked into the garden and gazed up into the sky
His face displaying melancholy, a tear formed in his eye,
And as the shadows lengthened the sun began to fade,
He slowly shook his head and sighed as he thought of the plans he’d made.
Lost in thought he stood there staring sightless, at the stars
His mind carried him through galaxies, transported him to Mars.
He rested on a rainbowed cloud that was full of morning dew,
And saw twin moons lying lazily in a dreamy sky of blue.
Way beyond the recumbent moons several horsemen he did espy
Was this in fact the Apocalypse, was he about to die?
Lightning flashed before him, illuminating all around,
Followed by a growling thunder, such a dreadful, eerie, sound.


Sepulchral monuments reared up in the now ebony shadowed sky,
Like a granite forest beneath which, the dead are made to lie.
Fragile barges drifted on through a swirling misty sea,
Ferrying Death from all the worlds, to this galactic cemetery.
For here souls are reincarnated, perchance reborn once more,
Then ferried by these boatmen, according to ancient law,
Back to atone for their sinful ways, so that they may reach a higher plain
And for those of us who do not atone, we’re ferried back and forth again.

Such was the vision shown to him of humanity and its fate,
As he stood alone and terrified at his imagination’s gate.
Had he atoned sufficiently or were his efforts of no avail,
Should he offer up his soul today, dare he cross the veil?
The moment came, then his chance was gone, he stood staring at the sky,
The tear that had formed ran down his cheek, it was not his time to die.
He slowly turned and walked back, the Horsemen circled overhead,
Then they rode off into the darkness, searching for the Dead.