Lynda McKinney Lambert, a retired professor of fine arts and humanities, taught at Geneva College in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania. She authored the book, “Concerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage,” by Kota Press. she is currently working on two books for publication in late 2016 – one book of poetry; one book of creative non-fiction essays. Lynda resides in the Village of Wurtemburg in western Pennsylvania with her husband, Bob, and their 2 dogs and 5 cats. Lynda writes 2 blogs on arts, literature and humanities topics.
www.lyndalambert.com
How Vivaldi Learned to Dance
(an Abecedarian poem)
www.lyndalambert.com
How Vivaldi Learned to Dance
(an Abecedarian poem)
Antonio Vivaldi heard a new beat
Began to dance inside his soul
Concerti Grosso came to visit him
D-Major opened his eyes at dawn
Every set of notes in the strong
Foot-stomping beginning
Gave his soul a new pair of wings
Horns, Oboes, 2 violins - Vivaldi cast the spell
Imagination approached the heavenly realm
Just as his nimble feet urged him to dance on clouds
Kicking up his heels, high off the pungent streets
Lively staccato Andante reminded
Medieval Venetians to stroll on sunny afternoons
Narrow passageways, the scent of patchouli flowers
Over cobblestone paths Vivaldi’s thoughts
Pulsed cautiously into the Adagio duet
Quiet staccato notes changed his rhythm
Roaming violin twins began a centripetal dance
Slow and steady - up, down, up, down, up
That long final chord ended his journey on
Urban bridges of arched stone
Violin solos of his butterfly visions soared
Where playful frantic Allegro takes flight
X, the unknown factor when the music ends
Yearns for one more summer day in Venice
Zeitgeist, his presence, spanned the Baroque ages.
The Molau(In Which I Dream of Vitava)
Always in mid-summer dreams, I amble
Beside warm surging waters in a distant land
City of Spires notices my soul’s passage
Drifting, light-rippling movements
Evoke the flow of the Moldau River
From its source in the forests of Bohemia
Gliding, twisting, turning, singing
Homeland legends return in tact
I’m drawn into patriotic emotions
Juxtaposed over a rural landscape
Kept in rhythm by a recurring melody
Love of Homeland splashes from two
Mountain springs; one warm, one cold
Now joined, become a mighty tributary
Orchestral musings of white water days
Postcards from Prague cannot contain it
Quietly I sip coffee at a café
Regal hymns flood my thoughts
Smetana’s symphonic poems
Telling stories like a recurring theme
Urges the morning to break into dissonance!
Vigorous second movement with a horn melody
Woke up the dreamers bathed in the morning light
X Is a ghost note the Moldau sings in between
Yesterday or tomorrow, where the final two-note chord
Zig-zagged away from the gentle arpeggio of dawn.
Note: This is inspired by Vitava, a symphony by Bedrich Smetana,
Concerti Grosso came to visit him
D-Major opened his eyes at dawn
Every set of notes in the strong
Foot-stomping beginning
Gave his soul a new pair of wings
Horns, Oboes, 2 violins - Vivaldi cast the spell
Imagination approached the heavenly realm
Just as his nimble feet urged him to dance on clouds
Kicking up his heels, high off the pungent streets
Lively staccato Andante reminded
Medieval Venetians to stroll on sunny afternoons
Narrow passageways, the scent of patchouli flowers
Over cobblestone paths Vivaldi’s thoughts
Pulsed cautiously into the Adagio duet
Quiet staccato notes changed his rhythm
Roaming violin twins began a centripetal dance
Slow and steady - up, down, up, down, up
That long final chord ended his journey on
Urban bridges of arched stone
Violin solos of his butterfly visions soared
Where playful frantic Allegro takes flight
X, the unknown factor when the music ends
Yearns for one more summer day in Venice
Zeitgeist, his presence, spanned the Baroque ages.
The Molau(In Which I Dream of Vitava)
Always in mid-summer dreams, I amble
Beside warm surging waters in a distant land
City of Spires notices my soul’s passage
Drifting, light-rippling movements
Evoke the flow of the Moldau River
From its source in the forests of Bohemia
Gliding, twisting, turning, singing
Homeland legends return in tact
I’m drawn into patriotic emotions
Juxtaposed over a rural landscape
Kept in rhythm by a recurring melody
Love of Homeland splashes from two
Mountain springs; one warm, one cold
Now joined, become a mighty tributary
Orchestral musings of white water days
Postcards from Prague cannot contain it
Quietly I sip coffee at a café
Regal hymns flood my thoughts
Smetana’s symphonic poems
Telling stories like a recurring theme
Urges the morning to break into dissonance!
Vigorous second movement with a horn melody
Woke up the dreamers bathed in the morning light
X Is a ghost note the Moldau sings in between
Yesterday or tomorrow, where the final two-note chord
Zig-zagged away from the gentle arpeggio of dawn.
Note: This is inspired by Vitava, a symphony by Bedrich Smetana,