Lon
Roberts, Ph.D.

Sharon Roberts, B.A.

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972-985-1731

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Copyright 2000
Updated 2/14/05

Lure of a Quarter Note
 

Two bars right of the treble clef,
Where melody gave way to rhapsody,
I was lured by a quarter note
To join the procession.

Seduced, at first, by the beauty of her black face,
The elegance of her rigid spine,
I was soon hypnotized, hopelessly helpless
To resist the whim of her gazelle-like leaps
On the lined slopes of Mount Staff.

She challenged me, taunted me
Made love to me, and haunted me
As the tempo changed the landscape
From measure to measure.

When last our affair had ended
She bid me remember the ride.
To experience music, she reminded,
Is to journey in the dimension of the soul,
To see beyond the plane, the 2-D terrain
Formed by the undulating notes
And the right-bound path of the tempo.

To this day her words still resonate
In the depths of my being.
No longer do I read the music,
The music now reads me.

		 Lon Roberts

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