Piano Man
Is there a sight any sweeter
than a man who can ply his trade
when he cares not a bit of the weather
or the pennies he might be paid?
Is there a sound any sweeter
than when notes are read from flowers
when the delicate rose becomes a trill
or a vamp to fill the hours?
Is there a smell any sweeter
Than black keys mixed with white
with the whiff of a red London phone box
and a hat to add delight?
Is there a touch any sweeter
than fingers dancing through air
that miss every flaw, but strike every sense
and all with a rugged flair?
Is there a taste any sweeter
than sound on a solemn day
mixed with a blend of coat tails
and a hint of ripe decay?
than a man who can ply his trade
when he cares not a bit of the weather
or the pennies he might be paid?
Is there a sound any sweeter
than when notes are read from flowers
when the delicate rose becomes a trill
or a vamp to fill the hours?
Is there a smell any sweeter
Than black keys mixed with white
with the whiff of a red London phone box
and a hat to add delight?
Is there a touch any sweeter
than fingers dancing through air
that miss every flaw, but strike every sense
and all with a rugged flair?
Is there a taste any sweeter
than sound on a solemn day
mixed with a blend of coat tails
and a hint of ripe decay?
raypool
Fri 2nd Sep 2016 20:28
I really like this David, being a pianist myself and aware of such nuances as you describe. All life is there under the hands. This has the flair of the busker about it. I always think money should at least appear incidental.
Ray