The Quiet World

Piano, Saint Albertus SchoolAnd there did death come, a sole thief in the night, and stole ‘way the keys of ivory white

Rid of fresh sound, no birth of new noise, no more feet tapping dances or heart-skipping joys

Now lost in the silence are notes on a page, black dots, recognition of once better days.

 

…but still, as minds wander, they find sweet old hopes, all packaged in echoes and stained paper notes

Of favourite tunes that radios played while waiting in stations whose train was delayed

Bitter faces turned light as the sound gripped their heart and adjusted the beat so the pulse could take part

In a symphony’s life, as the feet start to jump, the notes fly like blood cells, the heart starts to pump…

 

The rhythm plays on, though the music is dead, the echo can’t die while songs live in your head

The empty halls beckon, so fill them with sound, and bring back the music that made life’s heart pound

The strings might be cut and the keys have been stolen; the silence is death, but this spell can be broken

With echoes of past lives, reverberate strong; bring back the music, where my soul belongs.

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Categories: Poetry | Leave a comment

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