Watching the branches that scratch at the moon
and the breezes that billow and shuffle the willows
and noticing cumulus, soft like white pillows
while dancing in moonlight to songs of the loon.
Moving in twilight with elegant grace
as the fingertips gingerly stroking the keys
that are seated in line to make such harmony...
let it move me to tears but I shan't hide my face.
Music with power to heal wounded souls,
as the major's a needle and minor's a thread.
Crescendos of feeling that flow through my head
are filling the empty and bottomless holes.
You, to piano, like Frost, to a pen,
share the beautiful talent of creating art.
An honor to listen, it speaks to my heart,
Oh please, kind sir, won't you play it again?
10-18-08
Author notes
Written to "Moonlight Sonata."
A contest entry
- Moonlight Sonata by Mainzy.
400 points, ended October 24, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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A beautiful interpretation of Moonlight Sonata, your thoughts do you justice.
All the best... Sue
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Very elegant. I'm rather speachless about this one.
I can picture a loan pianist playing moonlight sonata, with others listening intently. Well done! And thank you very much for the entry in my contest -
very nice love! i like it
but then again i always do
~*Princess Cuddle Bug*~
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