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

0.018 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.

The Ammanford Fire Brigade

by Watcyn Wyn

−0.1759 − 0.1308i

Drawing the boundary…

Music

by Amy Lowell

−0.1578 − 0.1343i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Ammanford Fire Brigade

by Watcyn Wyn

A fire broke out in the block by the Square,
And a dreadful fire too;
It soon ran up from the cellar there,
And out four storeys through;
The heat and the sparks, the glare and the flames,
And the speedy havoc it made
Called out the strength of the sires and dames
Of the Ammanford Fire Brigade.

There is no fire-engine up in the place,
Nor a pipe of water down,
But all at once there was a race
And a rush all over the town;
Every boy and girl, every man and wife,
Every bucket and shovel and spade
Were on the spot working for life
In the Ammanford Fire Brigade.

The roar of the flames was threat'ning the town,
And a rush was made to the Square,
And streams of water were pouring down,
And the brave to the cellar dare;
The willing arm, and the helping hand,
What noble work they made
To form the Volunteer Band
Of the Ammanford Fire Brigade.

The Engine up from Llanelly came
O'er a road that is rough and long;
They drove the good steeds till they were lame,
And nothing at all went wrong;
But before they reached to Ammanford
And a halt on the Square was made,
The Demon was conquered—thank the Lord,
By the Ammanford Fire Brigade.

Music

by Amy Lowell

The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute.
From my bed I can hear him,
And the round notes flutter and tap about the room,
And hit against each other,
Blurring to unexpected chords.
It is very beautiful,
With the little flute-notes all about me,
In the darkness.

In the daytime,
The neighbour eats bread and onions with one hand
And copies music with the other.
He is fat and has a bald head,
So I do not look at him,
But run quickly past his window.
There is always the sky to look at,
Or the water in the well!

But when night comes and he plays his flute,
I think of him as a young man,
With gold seals hanging from his watch,
And a blue coat with silver buttons.
As I lie in my bed
The flute-notes push against my ears and lips,
And I go to sleep, dreaming.

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