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. The poems were already here before I arrived and began to experiment with them. They will still be here when these musical experiments, and indeed myself, have been swept away, like the sand of a mandala. Nothing has been lost.

I want a simpler end to my life, days of simple love and enjoyment with my wonderful wife of 20 years. The work of maintaining a server, the monitoring, and the residual obligations that come with keeping a site alive no longer fit that life.

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.

The Mandala Is Finished explains this more fully.

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

0.010 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.

A Little Boy Lost

by William Blake

−0.1156 − 0.6213i

Drawing the boundary…

Suspiria

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

−0.1061 − 0.6201i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Little Boy Lost

by William Blake

'Nought loves another as itself,
    Nor venerates another so,
Nor is it possible to thought
    A greater than itself to know.

'And, father, how can I love you
    Or any of my brothers more?
I love you like the little bird
    That picks up crumbs around the door.'

The Priest sat by and heard the child;
    In trembling zeal he seized his hair,
He led him by his little coat,
    And all admired his priestly care.

And standing on the altar high,
    'Lo, what a fiend is here!' said he:
'One who sets reason up for judge
    Of our most holy mystery.'

The weeping child could not be heard,
    The weeping parents wept in vain:
They stripped him to his little shirt,
    And bound him in an iron chain,

And burned him in a holy place
    Where many had been burned before;
The weeping parents wept in vain.
    Are such things done on Albion's shore?

Suspiria

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Take them, O Death! and bear away
Whatever thou canst call thine own!
Thine image, stamped upon this clay,
Doth give thee that, but that alone!

Take them, O Grave! and let them lie
Folded upon thy narrow shelves,
As garments by the soul laid by,
And precious only to ourselves!

Take them, O great Eternity!
Our little life is but a gust
That bends the branches of thy tree,
And trails its blossoms in the dust!

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content