Photography by Romain Thiery
abandoned song in forgotten keys
vacated premises, melodies
now dust, residue from golden days
when love tuned each corner with music;
when the muse brought life to clay; now an
abandoned song in forgotten keys
windows wide we welcomed night, dancing
rustles, whirling heat; now cold with still,
vacated premises; melodies
half-recalled, they play in the shadows
yearning for the time that is no more;
now dust, residue from golden days
This offering is in the form of a cascade.
Carrie is today’s host of The Sunday Muse.
Tao Talk 
Wow. This is so lovely, Lisa! I especially like the repetition of “residue from golden days” – the form fits the tone most wonderfully.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Dora. The picture reminds me of some scenes in the film, “The Shape of Water,” where the whole apartment is submerged. Thinking this is what it would look like once the water subsided.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is beautiful. I’m so glad I found you again. 🙂 Glad to be reading your words now.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jennifer. Now you have me curious about the again part. Do we know each other from another place?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I used to have a blog under Pretty Kool Dame, but I took a couple years off of writing due to health issues. I was a follower of yours then. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh yes, I knew your name sounded familiar but couldn’t remember from where. Nice to see you :) Glad you are blogging again.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lisa these lines bring the wistful memories to life. A lovely Cascade indeed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Carrie, thank you. The photo made it easy to tap into that feeling.
LikeLike
a beautiful poem! I loved it! <3
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Carol anne!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your poem captures the essence of the photo so well. So many questions left unanswered…..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Beverly!
LikeLike
Such excellent writing! The form is well-executed and the name of the form (cascade) fits with the image and your images. You imbue your poem with a haunting and melancholy tone with words like forgotten, half-remembered, abandoned and vacated. This swirls about like a distant melody in a summer dream.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Zander. It looks like a place that flooded, which seems to happen more and more with the climate changes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The Cascade is so like a song played on a piano (he said, having no musical talent or training whatsoever), and your words are perfection. This is really well-written, and an enjoyable thing to read aloud.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks much, Charley.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely, Lisa.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Judy, thank you.
LikeLike
Cool, Lisa. I also like the photo!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. I do too! Easy to write to it :)
LikeLiked by 1 person
A cascade or something that reaches a crescendo?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gorgeous cascade … and a lovely interpretation of the photography.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Helen!
LikeLike
Wow the dust and the decay of music is so well resonated in your poem. You even included the windows. Bravo
Happy you dropped by to read mine
Much💜love
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks much, Gillena, glad you like it.
LikeLike
Wonderful use of form and your words play a wistful melody of a time that once was. Repetition works well in this piece.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks much, Truedessa.
LikeLike
You’ve expressed your thoughts so beautifully Li.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks much, Sadje. The photo had a story to tell. Trying to imagine what it was like before the decay.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome! Yes, spot on with that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the first stanza Lisa…I guess that is what you call it. I like all of it but the first three lines really got to me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Many thanks, Max, glad you connected with it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
it fit the picture like a glove
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bravo! the cascade form adds much to the melody of this poem and I especially love that opening line
LikeLiked by 1 person
Many thanks, Laura!
LikeLiked by 1 person
When I was growing up, most people owned a piano, and could play at least a melody or two. My father used to play and the whole family would sing along. You’ve really captured that world, lost forever. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Kerfe, I’m imagining you and your family singing around the piano while your dad plays <3
LikeLiked by 1 person
Those were good times.
LikeLiked by 1 person
When you leave something behind, you separate from every memories that ever existed with it like abandoned songs in forgotten keys.
Brilliant!
The melodies, now dust are residues of a golden age.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Biko, thank you.
Question: is your name Kenyanito or Biko? I want to make sure I’m addressing you properly.
LikeLike
You are welcome, Lisa.
Haha. The name is Kenyanito Biko.
Any of them is proper! 😆
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful in form and poetry. The music is now memory, covered in dust and muted colors.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Susie!
LikeLike
I love the lilt and flow of the words…
I can imagine that room under water. The photo makes me feel sad, but your poem feels pretty and
uplifting……..so interesting where we get our inspiration from!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, it is interesting!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such a great collabortation of photo and words! Well done, Lisa!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dwight, thanks much! I look at some of these poems and think, did I write that? Poetry seems to come from some other place and we are the transmitters.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know. I look back and am amazed sometimes!
LikeLiked by 1 person