sw00683a-24.fv1961

First Verses


The Gush of Spring

    (for sound effects, fun, and beatniks)


In joy I walk along;
I sing a happy song,
For nature's mellow gong
Is rightly ringing long.
The mattresses of frost
Beyond the wall of land
With mighty force are tossed,
Where oceans spanned
By glassy waves
That ever break
Against the wall
And shattered, fall
On miles of sandy graves
From whence they never wake.
The hoary mattresses
That now are gone
Allow the messes
Of sleeping spring
To twang e'er lang
The song they sang
On last year's lawn.
Oh happy, bouncing spring,
Freed from winter's bed,
No longer are you dead!
You do not sleep,
But rather bring
The slamming dawn
To scare the hare
And flare the bear
And move the heavy air
As one would move a chair
Across the floor
Or drop the music score.

In joy I amble on
My oily way
And run this marathon
Each turn of day.
The vernal rush
Is always heard
In softly spoken word,
A lullaby so hush
That never did
The Scotch
So sweetly notch
The word and song
That lies not hid
Beneath old winter's dark,
Beneath its eerie bark,
Beneath its cold,
Beneath its scraping wind,
Beneath its charging bold;
Beneath its face of stone
That drops quite wrong
On those who sinned.

And yet the room,
Where spring is now exposed
And winter's sheets are torn,
Does find me there, forlorn,
As all around the gloom
Of night's shades fallen
Cause the gush of spring
To be deposed
As would a reigning king
Who grew with such quick speed
So as to suffer need
Of that which would make clear
This messy time of year
When all is like
A can of beer
Gurgled and thrown away
At noon of day
And life is far and near
With footsteps heard,
The song of bird,
The beat of drums,
The deaths of bums,
The whistle of a train,
The sound of plane,
The mush and gush,
And all such like.




-
Brian A. J. Salchert