She, like the wistful uncertainty
of a chord in first inversion,
a joy incomplete, yet pure and hopeful.
Never leaving her neighbors diminished,
scoffing at dissonance,
like an innocent Picardy contrasting
a world full of minors,
never hidden or parallel,
or gaudy as in ninths or thirteenths,
but simply,
purely tonal and pleasant,
O that she were my consequent phrase…

Poet’s Notes:

With summer upon us, I felt inspired to subject readers to a love poem I wrote back in college. While majoring in music, I decided to combine my music theory studies with my dating efforts. Long story short, I switched to an English major and graduated a bachelor in every sense of the word. Happy summer, Wheat and Tares!!!

This post’s image features the circle of fifths (doubling as a clock) by Juan Garcia from Pixabay.