Black then white to black....

 

Words rumble to tell

Of a nation, a song sung and then

Whispered down a dark highway of history.

Like black keys on a piano,

Their role fades with age.

Keys are owners of music,

Silence is their warning.

BY Susan Kane, thecontemplativecat@blogspot.com 

The black and white keys are enigmatic, letting some go high, others go low. 

 Note to self: Let them go. 

The underlined words are from 2016, of the Wednesday Words Challenge

Wednesday Words is writing experience created by Delores at  Under the Porch Light  more than a decade ago, and many bloggers use it to try different genre.  Delores had computer problems, and passed this onto several other faithful bloggers: The Elephant's Child and Drifting through life. The 6 underlined words are the choices.

 Go to these sites and find some other bloggers who are waiting just for you. 

 

This is like my old piano, left on the farm. 

Kindle-Windle Valentine

Kindle-Windle Valentine

Went looking for something

He could not find.

It need not be something gentle or kind.

But something where the road would wind,

Which would be just fine.

Kindle-Windle Valentine stumbled and fumbled,

Then rose to his feet.
Questions to complete,

Questions in his mind that rumbled and tumbled,

Should he seek a world for believers?

Should he seek a place for dreamers?

Should he seek a space of solidarity?

Should he seek a dance of clarity?…

With hands on his hips, a whistle on his lips,

Kindle-Windle Valentine

Was undone, then done by all his searching

with thoughts in his mind.

He was tired of walking and working,

To find a place of comfort he would find.

Which was where he started,

Which was just fine.

The underlined words are from a Wednesday Words in 2015.

This bumbled and fumbled in my mind.  This rumbled out.

This was posted in 2019.

Queen Anne's Lace

Source: Public Domain

Queen Anne’s Lace

By Mary Leslie Newton

Queen Anne, Queen Anne, has washed her lace

(She chose a summer day)

And hung it in a grassy place

To whiten, if it may.

Queen Anne, Queen Anne, has left it there,

And slept the dewy night;

Then waked, to find the sunshine fair,

And all the meadows white.

Queen Anne, Queen Anne, is dead and gone

(She died a summer’s day),

But left her lace to whiten on

Each weed-entangled way.

Poor Queen Anne--you should access the above Wikipedia site and read about her.  It is really sad, tragic even.