As Rains Might Fall

A quiet solitude, soft patterns of rain,

in a breeze tossed there and about

would I know the sounds would soothe

my soul in any moment of wonderment.


I do lay upon a silent morning when steady

the waters of a sweet melody and scents

olfactory carry my mind distant to my nearby

retirement, that seeks some cast upon peace.


Outside my porch I listen and watch

the morning birds gather their strength

feed upon such is a seed to bring delight

to the eye of a human yearning for love.


Could a tear be reconciled when memory

allow our hearts to feel splendor in song.

© Thom Amundsen 5/2021

A Song Begins

I might be in a different place

yet that certain melody

no matter the pace

of my day, where I have landed,

when the notes cross my mind,

I can suddenly be there,

wondering still

while again the world around me,

continues to shift, to sway,

to say,

it is enough to know how our spirit lives,

yet to recall that special day,

is a completely different way

to suggest,

to want to become a mercilous soul

inside a dream.



I listen to notes,

take me on a certain journey,

could be jazz,

perhaps the Moody Blues,

another day with B.B. King.

I like to imagine being in the sailboat that appears,

when in the throes of Enya’s words.

I wonder sometimes where to go,

then find a melody, a certain ambience,

to match the cadence of my mood today.

I find I am lost in curiosity,

when just the flutes appear to soften the blow

of my mind’s hard fought surrender to reality.

Inside the fantasy,

of certain rhythm, perhaps just a nostalgic memory,

I’m bound to finish the exercise of definition.

That moment,

that circle in time,

brings me back to where I had begun

another time before I recalled,

this place I am today.

With music,


I suspend my



photo found on onlygoodpix

Crowd Noise

painting by Debra Hurd

painting by Debra Hurd

While saxophone serenade melody,

glance across the room, and the world is alive,

with activity, purpose, longevity,

we all seem to want a similar drive,

waiting for the sunset,

while just realizing the crisp morning of a summer day,

we are living without any regret,

sharing our lives together with coffee and a gentle sway.

The rhapsody of that surreal breeze,

listen, can you hear the emotion of that chord,

the fingertips strum soft the lines,

that music, that interlude, such a marvelous journey.

While the noise of an active hustle creates

a steady rhythm of ‘hello who am I’

the eyes wander the room,

we all have our lives,

if only together, we might sing the words,

that suggest universally we can play the saxophone –

we might listen while the jazz plays our song.

With Piano Keys I Muse

I wait for the right note,

a soft touch, distant tone,

perhaps a high sharp strike,

my heart breathes the resonance.

I am immediately drawn to a time,

a different place we speak,

when everything is bliss,

and the pain is no longer an option.

We are easily pleased in memory,

with the musical intercessions of our lives,

when traveling inside a melody,

reminds me of her, or them, or even you,

I am sweet with desire,

limited by time,

yet know I have realized your beauty,

is always in my heart,

forever safe in the mystique of knowing … love

One Time at Band Camp

A promising player

knew cadence and read music

tap, tap, tap

the left foot became a natural twinge

every day

a little better

flying along the pins

tap, tap, tap

Music plays with our soul

wraps itself around a mood

defines a moment

recalls a memory

and the sweet melody goes on 

forever in a certain rhythm

defined by the composer.

What if I played

to your heart alone

without any other agenda

just my solo 

suggesting I love you

tap, tap, tap

‘Nowhere man please listen’

while the world plays on

you still want to return the favor.

Band camp never felt further away.