The Old Piano Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE
The Old Piano
Within the corner of the room
Her old piano stands,
The curtains drawn the view obscured
Across those verdant lands,
That warmed her kindly heart with joy
Brought music to her soul,
Now for her life that ended here
The village church bells toll.
She'd played those keys so softly
Through the evening's soothing light,
The strains of Chopin's nocturnes
Floated long into the night,
And stoked each flaming sunset
In the skies of burning gold,
Then lit the stars of heaven
Now the room is dark and cold.
The walls are bare where pictures hung
The ornaments have gone,
Now rows and rows of empty shelves
Where once her silver shone,
And yet the thing she treasured most
Was left and locked away,
For no one wished to take it
Or had found the urge to play.
The window closed through which she stared
And all the birds could hear,
Her music from the trees above
To them the sound so clear,
They gathered in the branches
How they loved the tunes she played,
Yet now there's only silence
As they watch the evenings fade.
Copyright. Andrew Blakemore 2009
What once was and can never quite be again so beautifully expressed. She is remembered in birdsong. Exquisite.10/10 Warm regards, Sandra
Stunning work Andrew, I love the tone to this beautifully expressed poem..it really is a lovely write my friend....an excellent 10++
This is stunning, Andrew. I'm so glad I found it. It is a poem worthy of accompaniment by a Chopin Nocturne. It contains much of the romantic sweetness of the Polish master, his lyrical grace and the anguish of loss that underpins so much of his glorious music. A fitting Elegy for your graceful old lady and her sadly neglected piano. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Andrew, very nice- and air poem, I am glad that I found it...... Even birds there such are sensitive, for, 'they watch the evenings fade.' ...........10x10............. All the best, Tsira
Andrew, what a beautiful and thoughtful poem you have written. You have described a life now departed and how echo's of it remain in old piano no longer played, but still heard by many. Regards Bob
Andrew, this is a masterpiece. There are so many images to drool on and absorb, I will float as I think of it for a very long time. I can understand people not wanting to play her piano as it would never be the same. I have my late father's piano accordion and don't wish to play it, but cannot part with it either. Thank you so much for the honor of allowing me to read this beautiful poem. 10 love Karin
Lovely write Andy, I feel like an old piano today lol, wonderful imagery too 10 Lynda xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:13:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Burning gold sky, echoing music then and silence now in the evening are simply absorbing images revealing your great poetic potential cannot be failed to note by any! Great!