Pianola

Old pianola and still standing tall,
one hundred years old against the bearing wall.
Waiting silently for tender loving care,
an instrument or household ware?

Heavy to play and hurts her hands,
yet it still quietly commands ...
to be played- a note, a bar, a piece,
for hammers and strings are yet to cease.

Missing keys and keys not level,
though soldiers on for designed special.
Missing it's other, the pianist,
for with each other they are blessed.

When they're both together-make harmony thrive;
the piano and pianist, together alive.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Poet has turned off commenting.


Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace