An instrument of black and white.
3 pedals to make the music sound better - if thats
possible. 76 inches long and 88 keys
Nearly transparent hands flyng across the
keys, playing a song of one of the Greats.
Keeping to the tempo of the metronome,
set perfectly to 110. Arms moving, feet
tapping the pedals, eyes reading the
notes from the book infront of her.
Everything is still except for the thin, long,
pale fingers flashing up and down the scale.
Her fingers are moving so fast,
they are almost floating.
She's playing a song she knows well.
The sound is intimidating.
Her hands fly upwards, whip the page
over and come back down again.
The song is coming to an end.
She finishes it, sighs of relief and pride echo.
Then, like an angel floating across the floor,
she leaves the ivory keys and stool to dust
until she comes back down to play like she used to.
What did you think
Comments
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Welcome to Allpoetry
Nice use of words, and punctuation. I enjoyed your imagery. Welcome to the site, if you have any questions please feel free to ask.
Laura,
site-greeter. -
This poem has sharp contrasts, the logical numbers, and the logicless imagery. The black and white of the keys, it is all very good, adds to the meaning. The imagery I like.



