The Unknown Composer and Writer

Words from the mind guided by the heart

It’s like a pen to paper. Words gliding smoothly across. The wind brushing passed the trees. Bringing them together in many different lights. Back to life as we revive the words from the heart, shining brilliantly, continuously stretching our minds looking for that; feeling, that compassion.

The feeling of emptiness that can accompany a painful memory, the haunting melody and shifting harmonies, roll on eerily like a dark and desolate landscape, there is a sudden dramatic pause, which says more about the despair of loneliness that words could ever say, yet the romantic era could be felt all around, which has its lasting appeal, this tender, yet reflective moment, that call to the mind, those things that might have been, the charm and elegance, rises and falls like a plucked string, few words can express bittersweet memories. So powerful, the mind and heart come together to overcome the emptiness, of that painful memory.

Inspired by this, this wonderful impression of beauty of the mind he began writing, music, poems, stores that were untold for many years; poems surrounded my memories, bringing them together in many different lights, that they touched us to the core, yet so vivid that part of us long to relive those wonderful moments.

Prepare yourself for a magical world of unforgettable words from the Heart and Mind.

This story was with mind and passion with dreams of inspiration.

The Dreamer

The emotion and inspiration is even more purely distilled because there are no words, just a melodic line floating free above in a fantasy of limitless horizons, the music touches the heart just as deeply, as a dream, which lives on in the mind, long after it has vanished. Throughout all of this, runs a vein of aching nostalgic, which, at certain moments, builds to ecstasy.

The dreamer is visited by a vision of the beloved summoning him to leave the earth and soar into the light towards scenes of divine splendour. But the dreamer awakes and is left calling into the night for the vision to return. His sensuousness and sentiment were raised to a level of true expression; eventually his uncontrollable passion to fall asleep is no more, his acing heart, his love, his inspiration, the music touching his soul, searching for that sudden impulse to live forever, the deepest emotion, the most tender love, full of the most violent passion, he feels abandoned by his vision of the beloved, and is overwhelmed by her sensuality, yet, out of his depth, going out of his mind with jealousy, his music is of unparalleled passion and excitement.

He moves towards the open window, and looks towards the sky, the moon rising above the water floating free, looking down he admires its reflection and secretly hoping that his vision, that someone will look back to steel an admiring glance. Nature has fallen silent, but the light of the moon only awakens sleeping hearts to memories of tears and sadness; he was not afraid to express the most powerful feeling that came from within, a sensuous evocation of that floating dream that follows the climax of passion ecstasy within his dream, his Beloved.

It takes him to planes of emotion, he barely knew existed evoking passion that lie right at the heart of his experience unruly forces of mutual attraction ever more exquisitely, captured together offering the utmost experience of a unique kind, Passion. His life was changing; imagine “a river, tinged with the rosy glow of the sunset, the water shimmering in the light breeze” this is one of the finest, although he had his own original personality, he was influenced by his dream and was not afraid, he expressed his happiness which embraced his troubled heart, he writes with deep emotions, he was inspired by the moonlight shimmering on the still surface of the water, the music seems to conjure so much more, so ethereal, it is as insubstantial as a dream which lives on in the mind long after it has vanished, the music touches his heart expressing something much more profound than mere sentimentality “ a wave of feeling”, being another unforgettable ‘ song without words’ quality that is truly magical, yet he could not help himself from expressing some of his innermost feelings, when he came to write the words, he turned aside from all thoughts of mellow fruitfulness to one of the most great traditions of his time, writing became him. His music certainly has all the charm of the unique style, yet he could not help yearning for that lost age-or perhaps a lost love? Yet his power evoking him to a dream world is irresistible, which has no specific story.

The impression sought to hold fast the moment and thus keep alive forever floating sensual experience, which itself reflects on what has happened so far and anticipates the tragic outcome to follow.

His magic was magnetically drawn to the lost world of his music; it was an age of dreams, an elaborate etiquette in which he danced to, it was the centre of courtly entertainment, one of the most imagining pieces ever done, but its formal, controlled gestures concealed deeper feelings that dared not be revealed.

He would not sleep, writing to create an entirely imaginary scene to kindle our imaginings, best known for his thrilling magic, he wrote a number of equally colourful works. Including music – yet influenced by his dream he could not sleep, he had to move away, deep emotions lie ahead, this could not happen, his best was yet to come, alive with his feelings, yet across the waters was Spain, Moorish Spain, its intricately decorated places and their exotic inhabitants, yet his raging imagination produces his own very personal vision.

He was one of the most important figures, (to himself that is) he wrote many words about his ordeal, and the dream that inspired him to write, he places his pen down, his hand aces, his eyes longing for sleep, yet he moves towards the window, looking towards the sky, the scene is a summer night, the clouds still and tinged with the remains of a sunset glow, thinking about that night and his dream of inspiration, his beloved.

Many of his works were written after long consideration and much soul searching, but there was another side to this man, a dreamer of dreams, who loved nothing better than to wonder with his mind the super romanticist in music, for all his devotion to his beloved there is more than a hint of love that might have been.

He wrote many pieces in a lighter vein, none of them lovelier or more pregnant with innocent desire than this, a song of night time, the summer day was passing bye towards the end, the vision flickers and then it’s gone, leaving behind contentment and warm solace, he sat down in his chair and fell asleep, ‘ sleep the long sleep’ visions passing by his mind, the dreamer has no vision of the beloved summoning him, he picked up his pen and started a new tale of raw passion, illicit love, treachery and death, its explicit treatment of flesh and blood characters and the searing emotion, this shocked him not knowing what he was writing, the outpouring seemed utterly spontaneous, their ebb and flow, the echo of a tidal wave of feelings, the emotion overflowed and his dream became him once more, his memories of his beautiful princess, it seemed so real, yet it was a dream that inspired him to think he has immortality, he finds love only in death in which brings their love closer, its ultimate consummation is death, eventuality the couple grip in uncontrollable passion and there united for the first time, the dreamer is the beloved, a vision of love, soaring towards the light and divine splendour. This has been no Dream.

Suddenly he awakes to a new day, not knowing he fell asleep, the room dark and hazy, he walks to the window, opening the window the sun shines upon his face bringing a smile to his heart, he is alive once more, with no compassion to die, his beloved a myth of a midnight dream, a tale of passion, his moods have changed from dreams of passion, to the sounds of thunder in the distance, he sits down picking up his pen he notices that there are words written on his pad? Not knowing if he had written them or not, the emotion is even more purely distilled, he places them on one side not giving them a second glance, he hears music in the distance, it opens as the thunderclouds rumble away in the distance.

A rainbow arching across the sky, mellow sunlight, and the shadows of the evening gradually lengthening over woods and fields all match the mood created by the sounds of this wonderful music, first there is sultry heat, then the call of the cuckoo followed by sudden and ominous gust of winds, flash of lightning, tormented by this he closes the window, then thunder cracks and rumbles, while hail and rain beat down on the fields in the distant, marvellously he captures all these moods and the impression is overwhelming, writing all the sounds for his music, as if he is painting a picture of music, this is a fine example of work intended to make the listener experience what is written for an orchestra, he thought, the descriptive title to his movement is one of happy and thankful feelings as the storm passes bye, the wind brushes passed, he hears sounds of horns and woodwind call to each other, which turn into the lovely melody that runs through his mind, composing music in his mind he is inspired by scenes taken from nature, he was alone with nature, this was just as revolutionary in his day as many of his works, he had written descriptive music, yet this was the first in which such a clear and detailed pictorial a particular mood, scene, or event, this was important to him on his understanding of music and nature itself, he opens his mind and explores, he can see extinct volcanoes and green rolling hill’s stretching as far as he could imagine, the summer skies, it is a land of skylarks, butterflies and carpets of wild flowers, his mind echoing phrases on oboe and flute, adds the finishing touches to a glorious landscape of his pictured mind.

His mind was strong with powerful words that came from within, deep down from his soul his heart and mind; he has the divine splendour, of stretching his imagination, who worships the power and beauty of nature, almost like it was an invitation to explore distant woods and fields.

His pace quickens and his pulse racing with a spring like zest for life, changing direction he focused his attention on one kind of music before moving on to another, he began writing stories poems as if he were writing musicals, convincing himself that all this was a dream. Yet we know it was! or is that another story!

A dream, we all know well, as we all have the ability to do so, never at a loss for words, is the dreamer’s paradise.

Dreams come from the mind, as it wonders without pause, reaching fare beyond your imagination, not knowing if you have been there or not, thrilling you with thoughts, evoking that passion that lay right at the heart of any person, express the most powerful feeling that you have ever experienced, by closing the windows to your soul ‘your eyes’ then Dreams can come true, live that dream in your mind, that powerful thought becomes reality, your thoughts surround you and the reality becomes real, just with the power of your mind you can free your imagination with all that grace and tranquillity.