The Instrument

My heart is a drum, 
My hands are symbols,
I have a voice like a cat 
And people use thimbles.

They plug up their ears
And over the years,
All of my peers have… 
Purchased from Sears.

I think I have learned,
That music is lovely, 
I listen and hum, 
I play on above-ly…

What does that mean, you may ask?
 
In heavens own orchestra,
I will be correct and on task. 
The Master knows my talents
And there is no mask. 

His Glory in all things, 
His Grace Renown.
I wish I could play better, 
If only for now.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Michael Avatar
July 3, 2019 at 7:45 AM
But they love you anyway...play those hearts drums of yours...and sing your feline cat calls... they'd be drooling to hear some more...Enjoyed the read...
Foster Avatar
July 3, 2019 at 9:43 AM
Thank you so very kindly. Ann
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