January 4

A Harmonica’s Verse

Free Verse, love poems, poems, Poetry, Poetry Pantry, Poets United

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A Harmonica’s Verse

Hello everyone;

I did say "haphazardly" participating in the April PAD Challenge. This is why day one is being posted after day two.
Day 1  prompt of "write an optimistic poem"

Not Dead Yet, Me


Is it really such a tragedy

that my sentences are raggedy

words tread together by similarity?

The conversation is still defiantly

expressions of me.


Is it really such a travesty 

that I wander aimlessly?

When I can travel through time so easily

…our life history

…a life lived outrageously.


Is it really such a disparity

that I have forgotten the melody

of your name? Still there’s some clarity….

I know the feelings of family

and passions intensity. 


Is it really such an indignity

that something once familiar is now a novelty.

Or that simple tasks escape me.

I still dance to life’s jamboree

and sing majestically.

Is it really such a finality

even as I become more absentee?

There is plenty of life in my legacy.

Don’t bother writing my eulogy,

when there’s still time to create a memory.

©2024 Delaina Miller

For my Great Grandfather Miller

A Harmonica’s Verse

Mine sits on a shelf like a beacon,
ruby red with ten holes.
I had one just like this when you lived.
Your memory already clouding
not recognizing the child sitting,
bright eyes fixed on you
and your silver mouthorgan.
You moved it from side to side
fanning melodies into the room
like your reflex to breathe.
You blew your soul through the tiny holes.
I tried to catch each note
as if holding on to them
meant I could hold on to you.

Though decades have passed
since your songs lifted my ears.
The tunes and moments we shared
are the harmony that sustain
and define my origin
in breath blown over tiny reeds.
Much like the wind
that stirs music from trees
and the soil that feeds.
The memories caught in a child’s tiny hand
are the silver streaks of light
that root her to a musical shore
she knows as home,
where she spins
her own magical songs.

 

This poem is my contribution to Poets United – Poetry Pantry. Join the fun at Poets United

 

About the author
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Creator of sounds. Poet on an energetic journey with words. Explorer of Frequencies.


 

Delaina J Miller

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  • You are lucky to have this instrument to treasure and remember happy memories ~ I specially like that rooting to the musical shore ~ Happy New Year~

  • Oh my goodness, how I loved reading this poem. Beautiful memories, told so well I can picture him blowing his soul through the holes……especially love the second stanza, “Much like the wind / that stirs music from trees / and the soil that feeds,” that root her to a musical shore. Sigh. Gorgeous.

    • Thank you so much Sherry for your heartfelt comment. I am so glad you like the poem and that is touched you so.
      Cheers!

  • Love the memories.. and how those tunes coming out of the holes mingle with the physical presence of that instrument.. and I love the fact that the harmonica is red.

  • I like the wistful tone of your poem and how this simple instrument triggers such sweet childhood memories. I was wondering whether the persona remembered a grandparent.

  • Lovely poem of reminiscence. I do think that some memories last forever and bring harmony to our lives. I think at holidays perhaps one reflects back even more than at other times of the year. I am sure these musical memories have deep roots, and it is good that you wrote this poem to preserve them.

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