A child stands on pointed toes,
wide eyes straining o’re the edge
to stare in awe
while soft melody flows.
Copper strings stretched tight
within the warm mahogany,
play melodies loud and clear
to bring young heart’s delight.
Years slip by with tuneless weight
and the keys they sit, untouched.
Dust sets in on wooded face
without a maestro to create.
Tired eyes glimpse each copper string
yet, there is no time to play,
the magic which once fueled such joy
now cause memories that sting.
The piano waits.
One fall day as leaves drop slow
from trees who’ve withstood time,
wrinkled hands will dust the keys.
Bright mahogany again will show
as music delights once more.
Thus the phase of life will end
within the company of a dear, old friend.
By- Lyndsie Brown