The Harp's Top String
THE HARP'S TOP STRING is a diverse, unpublished but copyrighted collection of 80 poems written over many years. Half of these have appeared in one or more American Christian magazines. Written in the first person they reflect my life. There are family poems, nature poems, poems inspired by books and world events, poems of praise and poems of struggle, poems of life and people. It’s a challenging and inspirational book which, like A CHRISTIAN IN LONDON PARIS, is written in a modern style.
Click on the pdf below for your free download of THE HARP'S TOP STRING:
Click on the pdf below for your free download of THE HARP'S TOP STRING:
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The Harps Top String by Merle Lamprecht is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Four poems from The Harp's Top String: "Song", "Sounds", "By the Sea" and "The Hotel Lounge"
SONG
there is a song
somewhere
I hear it distant
beyond recall
unlike the memory
of sand and shore
this song sang
and disappeared
beyond recall
I hear it
now and then
when blossom springs
or boughs are bent
I meant to sing it
but it went
beyond recall
too often
violent voices
drown this song
or indolent
I do not sing
bring back your song
your new new song
of praise and awe
more than anything
I would adore
SOUNDS
I think of sounds
that I love
of great chords
crashing on the shore
of wind threading
through reeds
of the percussive crack
of lightning
and the drum roll
beaten on black clouds
of crickets and frogs
serenading
in the dark spring garden
of the swift soothing
song of the stream
and I dream
of the silence
in the heart of the forest
between
the woodpecker’s rap
I think of sounds
that I love
the songs of praise
Psalms
and I know
that you hear
the lone voice
on the hill
as clear
and as dear
as a mighty massed choir
and I thank you
Lord
that I too
can sing
there is a song
somewhere
I hear it distant
beyond recall
unlike the memory
of sand and shore
this song sang
and disappeared
beyond recall
I hear it
now and then
when blossom springs
or boughs are bent
I meant to sing it
but it went
beyond recall
too often
violent voices
drown this song
or indolent
I do not sing
bring back your song
your new new song
of praise and awe
more than anything
I would adore
SOUNDS
I think of sounds
that I love
of great chords
crashing on the shore
of wind threading
through reeds
of the percussive crack
of lightning
and the drum roll
beaten on black clouds
of crickets and frogs
serenading
in the dark spring garden
of the swift soothing
song of the stream
and I dream
of the silence
in the heart of the forest
between
the woodpecker’s rap
I think of sounds
that I love
the songs of praise
Psalms
and I know
that you hear
the lone voice
on the hill
as clear
and as dear
as a mighty massed choir
and I thank you
Lord
that I too
can sing
By the Sea 1969
I get off the bus
and gaze
at what remains
of Capernaum
a few piles of pale rock
a reconstructed pillar or two
this was the synagogue
they say
I walk down the road
Galilee is calm
the hill on which you stood is there
the air is sweet
I can imagine you
with the wind in your hair
I can hear those phrases
which are quoted, misquoted
understood, misunderstood
yet which sing down the ages
but here
beside Galilee
I am still
I see
the soft slope of the hill
and hear you speak
explaining your sermon
not in terms of the meek
or of those who mourn
but of here
in the bus
or of where
I shall walk next week
I get off the bus
and gaze
at what remains
of Capernaum
a few piles of pale rock
a reconstructed pillar or two
this was the synagogue
they say
I walk down the road
Galilee is calm
the hill on which you stood is there
the air is sweet
I can imagine you
with the wind in your hair
I can hear those phrases
which are quoted, misquoted
understood, misunderstood
yet which sing down the ages
but here
beside Galilee
I am still
I see
the soft slope of the hill
and hear you speak
explaining your sermon
not in terms of the meek
or of those who mourn
but of here
in the bus
or of where
I shall walk next week
In the Hotel Lounge
she was toddling off
to watch TV
there was a program
about the price of funerals
it’s scandalous, she said
I want to know
what I’m in for
it seemed funny to me
merely middle-aged
and she seventy
that she could be
so practical
about the price of death
and so
unconcerned with the fact
I had little tact
and said my piece
and so the
conversation collapsed
and we started on
the price of coffee
which was also scandalous
after staring at
our cups in silence
I wondered if everything
has a price
so that even death’s
awesomeness becomes mundane
death after all
can’t be equated
with the cost of coffee
there’s more to it than that
she couldn’t do it
with her mind clicking
like a cash register
but imagine her meeting
God
for the first time
especially when cash-
which has occupied her mind
for the best part of a century-
collapses
what will she say?
she can’t talk
of coffee then
and she won’t just be
disintegrating comfortably
in her lead-lined
bargain box
she was toddling off
to watch TV
there was a program
about the price of funerals
it’s scandalous, she said
I want to know
what I’m in for
it seemed funny to me
merely middle-aged
and she seventy
that she could be
so practical
about the price of death
and so
unconcerned with the fact
I had little tact
and said my piece
and so the
conversation collapsed
and we started on
the price of coffee
which was also scandalous
after staring at
our cups in silence
I wondered if everything
has a price
so that even death’s
awesomeness becomes mundane
death after all
can’t be equated
with the cost of coffee
there’s more to it than that
she couldn’t do it
with her mind clicking
like a cash register
but imagine her meeting
God
for the first time
especially when cash-
which has occupied her mind
for the best part of a century-
collapses
what will she say?
she can’t talk
of coffee then
and she won’t just be
disintegrating comfortably
in her lead-lined
bargain box