An Idle Piano and A Waiting Hand

I wrote this 5 years ago?! Good grief. Wow that was a long time ago. This is one of the first ones, and this I am really proud of. It has great metaphors and combined my two loves at that time. The piano, and my girl. Although this came at the brittle end of that self-destructing relationship, it still is quite good, well for me, that is. It's sad that it brings back some difficult-to-digest memories, but hey, thats how it is with the sad poems.

An Idle Piano and A Waiting Hand

the piano sits idly in front of me
hoping and waiting to be played

once, its as if it calmly spoke to me
asking if i can give it some shade

i hit a key softly on its white length
the pitch resonates gently through my head

i naively thumped a chord with further strength
the sound abruptly leaves the room instead

i play the notes and the room comes alive
changing the still tone of the place outright

the tune goes on until the rests arrive
and comes slowly to the end like the night

the conclusion of the piece is at hand
i stop. the piano waits for the next hand

JackRyan
03/11/2001