Ray LaMontagne

Hope to mend from festered wounds,

fill empty voids with love and light,

a choice to feel the weight of worlds,

aware of humanity’s frightful plight,

he won’t be bent like a paper back,

he sings in echoes, raw and right,

yet when he speaks, he’s shy, succinct,

his voice at best through chords he sings,

guitars and lights, solos and riffs,

shivers running down my spine,

frequency tuned to what he says,

tears streaming down my troubled face,

like healing balm to keep my voice;

raise it fierce, soft and sweet,

grateful for the gifts he brings,

oh, Ray, you mean so much to me.

Emily C. Poésie © 2018

6 Comments Add yours

  1. The rhymes and meter of this one went really well together!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! Ray is my muse. Haha

      Liked by 1 person

      1. 😩I didn’t even know about him. Since reading your poem, I’m determined to listen to his songs once I’m back home.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Yes! Let me know what you think.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. the pretty poems says:

    I love his music so much – I finally have time to read blogs this week and I just had to click Ray. I love “All the Wild Horses” “Let it Be Me” and who wouldn’t love his cover of “Crazy?” That’s like fr our athem

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Let it Be Me is so beautiful and touching. I love all those songs. Glad we’re fellow Ray fans!

      Liked by 1 person

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