Playing the Cello in my NYC apartment

Play the Cello my fellow.
The music floats into a mellow.
The light glistens on the chandelier.
Twinkle twinkle here and near.
The blue sofa perched close to the window.
Looking inward at the doggy below.
The books float on a tableau.
Giving enlightenment to whoever seeks them solo.
The records lay flat on the hardwood floor.
Scratched and scarred to never play a song.
The fireplace has no roaring embers.
But the mantel carries dimly lit flames.
The islands of plants takes the Sun thru the southwest window.
Trading in CO2 for a few sounds from the Cello.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025



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