Learning The Accordion Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Accordion playing the strings of my heart with joy and sadness,
my Grandfather having had two of them from Sicily, he'd never
let me touch or play them though.

Always wanting to learn how to play one, to this day not owning
one of my own, yet I did learn how to play because my Aunt was
taking lessons and bought one.

Picking up the beginning book, learning the fingerings, playing
songs right away, because of learning how to read music when
only in first grade.

First time I held it gently, lovingly, filled with mixed emotions,
joyful to the nth degree, playing it for hours on end, my Aunt re-
marking how this was the first time ever even holding an accordion.

Being upset with herself, not me, proud of what I could accomplish
in just a few hours, she had to pay for lessons and was still work-
ing on learning her first song.