beneath midsummer’s stretch of hills
to a sound in the sequence of a secret
sweeter than a song bird,
more tuneable than lark to shepherd’s ear*
a softer thrum, no human voice
more delicate, more mesmeric.
from rosewood and spruce
a hollow chamber, frets
on a fingerboard feather touched;
then swiftly, so swiftly
as though silenced by a hawk
with one swoop the hills become soundless.
from a fleeting impression
a fantasy so convincing
we linger on the edge.
Faint music from Titania
till morrow ~
deep midnight’s caress.
*ref: A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare
Anne Marie Butler is an artist and book illustrator and has been writing poetry for the past 5 years. She lives in the Preseli Hills in West Wales and attends and reads poetry ‘on mic ’ at local venues. She is currently studying Modern Literature with the Open University, and further details are shown on her blog: http://preselimountains.blogspot.co.uk/