The Music of The Hills

6 (6)A storm is brewing, keep things close at hand.
The woods gently sing their quiet song.
The wind is blowing across the top along the land,
Begins it’s low howl it resonates deep and long.
Building itself up, as though to make an entrance,
Bending trees along the way, start to sway and dance.
Reaching it‘s crescendo thunder crashing through the hills,
A dramatic drum roll there it’s mad frenzy sending chills.
Hurling itself up before swirling around the ledges,
Nature singing out from the safety of the hedges,
Cattle calling across the way, invisible in the mist.
Lovers lost to it’s emotions, meeting for their tryst.
Eerily silent once again, this weather is a curse,
before tinkling raindrops signal the next verse.
Thoughts are stirred up taking you right back,
For a moment, you temporarily sidetrack.
Lost up there in music, a world away from your own,
As they rest again exhausted, the hills will sigh and moan.
This is the music of the hills,
Pay close attention to how it feels,
Of all things fierce and good.
Played out by the Orchestra of the Wood.

The Daily Post – The Music of The Hills

The Atmosphere of the Ballet

The other day I spent a wonderful afternoon watching the Ballet with some of my family.  I must admit that my enjoyment of it was made even better, by an elderly lady who sat alongside us with her daughter.  She made me smile as she hummed along to all the music and later commented after a particularly lengthy dance with just two of the dancers, that “they were nice, now on to the next ones” followed by “Oh dear, they are back again“ when they returned to the stage for the next dance.  She had the same sort of deadpan way with words as my dear friend and late Mother in Law. A wonderful Lady who was with me in spirit on the first Mothering Sunday we have spent without her.  But it made me feel close to her for a moment and relive some of my memories of her, albeit vicariously.

Atmosphere of the Ballet

The costumes, the backdrops, the music starts

Senses are heightened it plays on the heart.

The Orchestra seated, they play in time.

Dancers jostle to form the line.

The stages prepared and subtly lit

Ushered into our row, we sit.

To be enraptured and enthralled

Until the interval is called.

A lovesick daughter, or a Faerie Queen.

It doesn’t matter if it’s one you’ve seen.

My favourite ones are nymphs and faerie,

That Evil one is far to scary!

Discussing the storyline once more

As the actors assemble at the door.

To await the time they’re at their leisure

The performance given for your pleasure.