My Secret Place

My Secret Place

When the world is too much with me
And I long to fly away
I lay back in contentment
And listen to music play
Rachmaninov is my God
Puccini makes me cry
The symphony is my home
For the Opera I would die

Whenever terror strikes me
And I think I'll lose my mind
I put my feet up on the chaise
And leave my cares behind
I don't need mental help
Or even Dr. Phil
I just listen to the violins
I have no need for pills

This is my private place
Far away from strife
Music is a gift from God
I will treasure all my life


Copyright©2005Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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Boyle Avatar
September 24, 2011 at 5:58 PM
Thanks Nancy...he got me through my husbands illness and subsequnet death, for sure!! His Second Piano Concerto is my absolute favorite!! Bea
Jones Avatar
September 24, 2011 at 5:52 PM
I love Rachmaninov, too, Beatrice.. Music sure does soothe this savage's breast! Thanks for the post, happy day!~N
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