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The Game
by Frank A. Wallace
five songs for medium voice and guitar, op. 50; poems by Frank A. Wallace
duration: 14 minutes
world premiere: not performed
 View Sample Music
The Game [of life] was composed in the fall of 2007 out of desperation - desperation to create after several months of hellish administrative work and after a year of completing arrangements and recording of my Christmas project, A Season of Light. I needed to reconnect with my creative muse and these poems seemed the perfect path to that goal. They had been written at various times, but all speak of the joys and sorrows of raising a family in the country and my own struggles with finding a sense of place, having been born in Texas, raised in California and then settling in New England.
- I. Manhattan
- II. Furrowed Brow
- III. Deep
- IV. Tell us True Love
- V. Vision
Here is the fifth poem of the cycle:
The crones stand
Embracing their dead
Rot peeled bark
Like old skin.
Were it found
By a sidewalk
Café in Manhattan
Folks would scowl
But ‘twere found
Etched and carved,
Cast In bronze…
Here time is patient
Wood more graced
Life colors
And death
Feeds.
Gyre Publications
Copyright ©2007 Frank A. Wallace
All Rights Reserved - Gyre 2123
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