Piano Speak
I played my part, in the praise of the Lord,
Standing by the choir box, on my own accord,
Deft hands created a heart, centuries old,
With gilded corners and polished wood, set my soul,
The young little fingers of a fairy, that kissed,
Struck a hammer, in my strings lips,
A mild tap of dance, on the brass right foot,
Would sustain my melody into an eternal mood,
Crafted with the ability, to sound like a lark,
Across octaves and sharps, six and half,
The bard who was deaf, could hear through my touch,
And create symphonies, for an interminable march,
When the ‘Rose of England’, reached the Lords’ Abode,
Elton’s tenor, rained heavens, on a grieving road,
With my hammers and tongs, I make the world think deep,
Or weave a sweet lullaby, that puts little hearts to sleep,
Needless to spell, I, reside in your hearts,
In exultation or sorrow, I am always your part.
Pradipta Roy Choudhury
https://notionpress.com/read/the-transient-soliloquy
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