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.

After the death of my mother, 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.

My wife and I are simplifying our days. The server, the monitoring, and the residual obligations that come with keeping a site alive no longer fit the quieter life we 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

0.069 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.

Forgetting

by Rose Hartwick Thorpe

−0.8048 − 0.3476i

Drawing the boundary…

The Owl

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

−0.7489 − 0.3881i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Forgetting

by Rose Hartwick Thorpe

We stand with our faces earthward
And watch for the shadows to fall,
Forgetting that high in the heavens
The sunlight is shining for all;
Forgetting that pleasure and laughter
Are ours to claim as a right;
Forgetting that morning comes after
The gloom and the shadow of night.

We stand 'midst our broken idols,
And weep with a childlike grief,
Forgetting that time will bring us
The balm of a sure relief;
Forgetting that forth from our sorrows
Spring many a hopeful ray;
Forgetting that golden to-morrows
Are born from the tears of to-day.

The Owl

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

When cats run home and light is come,
And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the far-off stream is dumb,
And the whirring sail goes round,
And the whirring sail goes round;
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits.

When merry milkmaids click the latch,
And rarely smells the new-mown hay,
And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch
Twice or thrice his roundelay,
Twice or thrice his roundelay;
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits.

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