
The
Piano
Made with skill,
the maker delighted What a beautiful home it
required. A formal music room with Victorian
tastes, With lovers of music, all in place.

She was a genteel lady,
Taught to her from a baby. To sit at the
piano and play Classical music of the day.

She also loved
to sing, Her voice with melodies ring.
As her fingers touched the keys, Of the
Grande that always pleased.

She would wear her
red dress, She loved to look her best.
As she played the beautiful songs,
Sometimes she'd play all the night long.

Then one day
without warning, She fell deathly ill....so
much mourning. The Genteel Lady of grace,
Would now be in Jesus' embrace.

So the piano sits
there alone, Never to hear it's wonderful
tone. The house deserted and wasting away,
Without her it stands in disarray.

It's past is
buried and, alas, is gone, But the melodies
still live on. If only someone would make a
fuss, Over the Grande, that sits covered in
dust.
Shy and Siggy © 2005
May 26
Shy's
Website

Psalm 33:8
Let all the earth fear the Lord:
let all the inhabitants of the
world stand in awe of him.
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