My Piano Man
My Piano Man
Sweet soul music,
Grandpa played on ivory keys,
Was more then just a lullaby,
They were down right groovy tunes.
Dressed in frills and lace,
Black patten shoes upon my feet,
I danced a rap-tap-tap,
As Grandpa played the blues.
We harmonized are music,
Are sync was right on key,
Both searing with a glow,
Are hearts became soul.
Was on rare occasion,
That Grandpa played the keys,
Yet the melody and memory,
Are everlasting-worn in sleeve upon my heart.
CLW
03-11-11
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
About this poem:
A memory distant,yet very close to my heart of my Grandfather playing piano,and me all dressed up,tapping my black patten shoes upon the floor as if thy where tap shoes,dancing away,as I swirled the dress as if I was the Bell of the Ball.
And always the mirthful look he wore upon is face,is one that is forever bedded in my mind and in my heart.
Comments (2)