Wednesday 4th June 2014
Eloise by Barry Ryan.
Moonshadow by Cat Stevens
Singing Bridges of Memphis by John Fahey.
Write 101 Day 3 Words 547
My tale below includes the write free and my three song choices. Written as a micro story/flash fiction. May I suggest listening to the music while reading. Thank you.
Gaa/C ©June 4th 2014
It happened way back in the late sixties, when all was set in motion. At the time no one knew it but the cogs of the wheel started turning and winding by the day, by the week by the year. Passing slowly growing all the time, this roller coaster gathering speed daily. But what was unusual was that it was invisible, no one saw it. It could not be heard, no one heard it and especially no one felt it. Was it even there we could not tell, slowly and quietly it moved in us, around us through us.
At times I would listen to music and Eloise was one of my favourite songs, at the time I did not know its importance, I just like it. The tune was powerful and the lyrics to match and later mean so much to me.
I would pick up my guitar and practice songs and scales and the one song I learnt to play was Moonshadow. Many times I would sit under the stars and light of the moon and sing and play this song. It gave me some sort of peace, inner peace, some times I would make up my own lyric depending on my mood. I would happily play the song for a long time. Many years passed and the song was played many many times and differing varieties. It became a part of me, it was part of me, in my blood in my brain and especially in my heart. My was ultimately changed by my music and interest in playing it, the friends I made, some still with us and some unfortunately gone. One friend, a dear friend sent an album called Yellow Princess, which I still have, and on this album is the tune Singing Bridges of Memphis. I took to this tune on the first hearing, I could actually imagine myself sitting on the river bank by this bridge and listening to it singing. Another song and artist that became part of me, I lived them and they became by life.
Week by week, month by month this cog turned, it grew like a cancer it spread and got bigger. All the time it ate away, nibbling piece by piece the mentality was taken away. Sometimes the roundabout would halt its journey, only temporary, because it soon select a junction and travel the road and continue its journey. Occasionally evil and harm would raise its head greasing the cogs, and their increase in speed caused it to lose control. Another day, control was gained and peace was once again within, the dreams would cast its pictures and stories. It was a choice whether they were true to act on or purely a story hovering in fantasy.
Eventually the music would stop playing, the visions would become blind, the movements would slow and stop.
So Eloise my daughter would continue this journey and she would sit on the hill top and watch the stars in the moon light, with her Moonshadow cast across the ground, looking to her left she would see and hear Singing of the Bridges of Memphis.
Gaa/C 2014 June