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Love's Duet
by Rick Rucker

Does your heart, to you, sound like a spinet?
Ever louder, by the minute?

My diagnosis, sad to say,
Someone has stolen your heart away!

What's that you say,
Inside your chest it still does stay?

How can it be both gone and here?
You do not comprehend, I fear.

Once it has been taken,
All your beliefs will be shaken.

All of those things you “knew,”
Suddenly don't seem so true.

A heart is an instrument for others to play,
In choice of tune, you have no say.

Will that person play love's sonnet?
Or only “taps” will the other play upon it?

Will it be a concerto, brave and full.
Or will it leave you in a lull?

If the player is a master,
You may still avert disaster.

If the player is tried and true,
A duet will you both “do.”

Love's sweet song should go on forever,
Rising always, ending never.

How long can forever be,
Perhaps past Eternity?

It's in the hands of The Fates,
Maybe past The Pearly Gates?

I hope you find an accompanist that knows
How to play you, head to toes.

Starting softly, slowly,
Probably with whispers, uttered lowly,

Moving on, a little quicker,
Ever mindful of your ticker.

Better to not move too fast,
After all, you want this to last!

Suddenly you've lost your sight,
You don't know if it's day or night.

Feeling that you're in a haze,
Your nerves on edge, your brain, a daze.

Now the tempo has increased,
All inhibitions have been released,

You want this to go on forever,
Rising always, ending never!

Were it to continue, just like this,
You would never know the bliss,

Of the musician's artful finish,
The one that takes, yet won't diminish,

The feelings that this is our reward,
For doing work, and being bored,

By the petty things in life,
For this moment that feels like a knife,

Coursing through your brain,
Bringing that exquisite pain,

Was that all a dream,
Or did you just hear someone scream?

Rising now, to applause,
The musician must have been the cause,

Of the warmth that does flow,
All over you, from head to toe.


Enlivened now, but blissfully spent,
You know that this was no accident,

Like musicians have always said,
To get good, practice often 'til you're dead!
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