Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Welcome to Ken Allan Dronsfield! (Note revised poem.)

This evening I would like to welcome Ken Allan Dronsfield to The Song Is...  I know that he has been waiting patiently for this entry.  (Note: "White Silk and Whispers" is a revised version of "White Silk and Rapture.")

That Hazy Impression

Bar stools creak and groan like my bones
a shot sits waiting, number 8, I'm very sure
a night-owl lush within icy faceless crowds
spirits help to forget, but who really cares
many thoughts of love creep in and out
desires seem cold, wanton lust dreamer
a sudden breeze clears all my thoughts
the scent of perfume and wine drifts by
essence of female genes waft in the air
like the smells of honey buns on Sunday
in a wink, she's gone, like an express bus
one day I'll get a number, yes another shot.


Hang in there, everyone, fall is coming!

Rusty Leaves

boots of black, covered in green
forgotten memory left far behind
woodpecker tapping upon birch
moss covered granite whispers
deer disappear into fern & pine
partridge drumming in harmony
woodland faeries smiling softly
footpath covered in rusty leaves
gentle breezes calm all serenely
bears move in lumbering ripples
car horns sound in the distance
peaceful surrender...enchantingly.

Strawberry Daiquiri & Silk Roses

motionlessly awake, helpless and heated
desperate for breezes of a coolish content
fans moving air, like that of a hot hair dryer
lazily sit by the pool, watch silk roses frown
ice in the freezer, fruit juice from the frig
rum in the cupboard, blender waits nearby
fresh sliced strawberries in a bowl now rest
sweat on the brow, the mixing time is now
tall glass from the hutch, granny's best crystal
the noisy whirring is done, a stroke of mastery
walking back to the pool with a sheepish smile
drink my strawberry daiquiri, as silk roses grin.


White Silk and Whispers

Lazy mists envelop this land

scarlet sky with a serene azure

working fields of cotton or yam

adrift within a sun dog's rapture.

Awkward stare at waltzing ravens

escape aroma of decayed river silt

prayers come and rise to Heaven

her old wheel spins white raw silk.

A cool breeze blows over the bay,

whispers of death, the devil's desire.

Life at the crossroad relives each day,

as Robert Johnson strums in the fire.


Of Sky and Blood, Rev 2
(Ode to King Richard III)

Temperance of valor,
greet me with shame
steal away with a sword
from my leather baldric.
Grant me a final wish
before ending my life,
place me upon a throne
with defiant sufferance.
Whilst falling in battle
on a muddy bloody field;
although devout of faith,
whom shall pray for me?
Will your great God above
grant forgiveness for my
sinful murderous contempt?
I am a warrior, not a priest,
tiller of soil; nor a follower
guided along pious paths.
Never forget that haunted
shrill of the battlefield cry.
Proclaim your righteous
virtue, sing your victory
song as sky and blood
drain from my pallid eyes.
As the sounds are muffled
and indistinct, I am suddenly
renewed, feeling a rebirth,
if only in an eternal dream.


Ken Allan Dronsfield is a published poet and author originally from New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He loves thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night, and spending time with his cats Merlin and Willa. He is the co-editor of the new poetry anthology titled, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze available at His published work can be found in reviews, journals, magazines and anthologies throughout the web and in print venues including: The Burningword Journal, Indiana Voice Journal, The Literary Hatchet Magazine, Belle Reve Journal, Peeking Cat Magazine, Dead Snakes,Bewildering Stories, Aquill Relle, Members Anthology, Book 6, Literature Today, Volume 5, Poetic Melodies Anthology, Creative Talents Unleashed;  and many others.


As I was posting Ken's poems, Frank Sinatra's "One For My Baby" was going through my head, so I think I'll start with it:

"In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning" is also worth including, too:

I do want to include some instrumentals, too.  Let's start with "Where or When" with Ben Webster and Art Tatum:

Ben Webster appears with Gerry Mulligan here on "In a Mellow Tone":

I'll finish with Ben Webster and Oscar Peterson's version of "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning":