Fingers tickle ivory cream
melodies born from magic dream,
octaves soar high like bells above
notes fit perfectly like a glove,
scattering far and wide below
fluid fingers know where to go,
finding a home upon each key
my sweet old piano and me.
A contest entry
- Play Me like a Piano... by Perception.
300 points, ended March 20, 2008, 5 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Oh wow... This one is penned brilliantly... Though the word 'glove' was a bit awkward, this was through and through a great write...
thanks for entering
&&
goooood luck


