A quiet notice V2Melody closes at midnight on , Spanish time.

Closes

A note from Richard

V2Melody will close at midnight on 20 January 2028

This site has been a retirement project in musical poetry: poems chosen with care and set to music, offered freely for as long as it felt right to keep the garden open.

The work no longer holds the place it once did in my life. I have gone as far with it as I wish to go. Like a sand mandala, it was made to be completed and then released. I am not attached to its permanence, and I do not believe any of it needs to last beyond the time it was given.

I want a simpler life, without the hassle of being online. The work of maintaining a server, the monitoring, and the residual obligations that come with keeping a site alive no longer fit the life I want.

From 4 November 2026 I will not be adding new poems or musical poems to the site.

Until midnight on 20 January 2028, Spanish time, everything remains available exactly as it is. That is when my VPS server contract comes to an end, and it will not be renewed. After that, the server will be switched off and the site will disappear.

Thank you to anyone who found a poem, a track, or a quiet moment here.

The pleasure was in the making.

Richard



Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.039 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

If women could be fair

by Edward de Vere

0.0753 + 0.2809i

Drawing the boundary…

Shameless Love

by Philip Bourke Marston

0.1099 + 0.2629i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

If women could be fair

by Edward de Vere

If women could be faire and never fond,
or that their beautie might continue still:
I would not mervaile though they made men bond,
by service long, to purchase their good will.
But when I see, how frail these cretures are:
I laugh, that men forget themselves so far.

To marke what choise they make, and how they change,
how leving best the worst they chose out stil:
And how like haggards wilde, about they range,
Skorning after reason to follow will.
Who would not shake such bussards from the fist,
And let them flie (faire fooles) which way they list.

Yet for our sport, wee fawne and flatter both,
To passe the time, when nothing else can please:
And traine them on to yeeld by subtill oath,
The sweet content, that gives such humour ease.
And then wee say, when wee their follies trie,
To play with fooles, Oh what a foole was I.

Shameless Love

by Philip Bourke Marston

Thy food my body, and my blood thy wine; 
My soul, too, thine, to tread beneath thy feet: 
While thus my hair is gold and my breast sweet, 
Most rapturous is this shameful life of mine. 
But time must come, between my life and thine, 
When I must leave the heaven of this heat,
And through the cold, gray twilight go to meet 
That night wherein no stars nor moon may shine. 

A rose, then, withered by fierce passion's sun, 
Left soiled and trampled in the public way; 
A broken wine-cup emptied of delight: 
Yet would I not, to triumph o'er that day, 
Give up one wild, sweet moment of this night, 
That finds once more love's tune of joy begun. 

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