The Piano Poem by Gert Strydom
The Piano
Merry tunes crept from your fingers
when on the piano
you played out your heart,
making it part
of all your feelings
and without books or charts
made own melodies
which sneaked into the night
and sometimes I heard pain
and longing
hanging in the air
and that piano's sound
almost followed me everywhere
as if locked somewhere
in my mind and soul.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/28/2024 6:22:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
