Heart Of The Matter
The Old Piano
My eyes were closed, and yet,
I saw, an old piano there,
Oh God, it was so beautiful,
I couldn't help but stare.
I took in every detail,
And yet, could not convey,
The beauty of the instrument,
That no one seemed to play.
I saw the room it stood in,
The moss green velvet drapes,
A warm glow from the open fire,
And logs stacked by the grate.
And then I saw the woman,
Victorian, it would seem,
Dressed in the deepest burgundy,
Edged with lace of cream.
She sat at the piano,
Placed thin fingers on the keys,
And then I saw two children,
Who stood quietly, by her knee.
I saw the vision vanish,
Now gone, that homely glow,
I wondered who the woman was,
And thought, I'll never know.
I told a friend about it,
I was feeling quite dismayed,
She said, “That was Great-Grandma .......
and I didn't know she played”.
I saw, an old piano there,
Oh God, it was so beautiful,
I couldn't help but stare.
I took in every detail,
And yet, could not convey,
The beauty of the instrument,
That no one seemed to play.
I saw the room it stood in,
The moss green velvet drapes,
A warm glow from the open fire,
And logs stacked by the grate.
And then I saw the woman,
Victorian, it would seem,
Dressed in the deepest burgundy,
Edged with lace of cream.
She sat at the piano,
Placed thin fingers on the keys,
And then I saw two children,
Who stood quietly, by her knee.
I saw the vision vanish,
Now gone, that homely glow,
I wondered who the woman was,
And thought, I'll never know.
I told a friend about it,
I was feeling quite dismayed,
She said, “That was Great-Grandma .......
and I didn't know she played”.
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The Old Piano
The Old Piano
