Perplexed Music: Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Today, I’m grateful for music. I’ve always loved music and singing especially. And thankfully, I have a pleasant enough voice that when I sing people listen instead of running from the room screaming. My husband says my singing (and my backside) are what convinced him to ask me out. I’m not sure how to feel about that lol. Flattered works, I think.

Music makes everything I do seem more exciting. I have theme songs for everything. My “walking around anywhere” theme song is Ebla by E.S Posthumus. If you haven’t heard it, I highly recommend listening to it and then either imagine going for a walk or actually do it. Epic.

The poem I am trying -and failing- to write now is also about music. So I decided to share a poem I enjoyed by Elizabeth Barrett Browning for today. ¬†Because we need more poetry around here! And it isn’t Friday, but I’m going to tag this under favorite fridays anyway.

PERPLEXED MUSIC by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

EXPERIENCE, like a pale musician, holds
A dulcimer of patience in his hand,
Whence harmonies, we cannot understand,
Of God; will in his worlds, the strain unfolds
In sad-perplexed minors: deathly colds
Fall on us while we hear, and countermand
Our sanguine heart back from the fancyland
With nightingales in visionary wolds.
We murmur ‘ Where is any certain tune
Or measured music in such notes as these ? ‘
But angels, leaning from the golden seat,
Are not so minded their fine ear hath won
The issue of completed cadences,
And, smiling down the stars, they whisper–


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