Of unsung songs

 

 All the songs we never sung,

Were written with love, perhaps long ago,

In un-creased pages, stored with care

Waiting for the perfect sun to glow

 

All the notes we never hummed,

Were tuned with the best of you and me

So soothing to burnt heart and soul

Broken cages, all set free

 

But the perfection stayed in sheaves of hope

Neatly boxed and shelved and stored,

No voice imperfect gave them life -

Like an empty river without a ford

 

Perhaps, if you could right the notes all wronged,

And sing even with a raspy voice,

The imperfect stars of dusk would tell

The brightest sun was never a choice

 

Perhaps, if I could fold and crease and mark

The albums that I saved instead

This world would have more songs to sing,

And all this music would not fade…

 

21^st September, 2022