Short Concert Hall Poems

The stillness of concert hall
vibrates with the sound of sonata,
the caressed ebony and ivory keys
unfold a tale of passion.

His ballerina fingers create
the ballet of sound,
melodic lilt dances 
with the rhythm of hearts.

The last octave silent,
he listens resonate 
in emotive ether eloquent…
...

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His audience floated while shadowed
in umber darkness of the concert hall
Upon his dusty piano, a spotlight glowed
as his musical notes cascaded in a waterfall

He faltered then stopped near the end
his wispy presence slowly faded away
I've given up the pretense of trying to pretend
I still hear him as he sits near me to play...

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Your life was not measured in time
Days and years no real reflection of you
You would speak without saying word
Your laugh would fill a Concert Hall 
Your spirit, smile and caring live forever
I look into your eyes, I see my daughter
We haven’t lost you but still we cry
Loving you so easy, leaving you so hard
Years could never measure your life
Years will never dim our love
Then, now, always...

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The cacophony never lasted long,
we always found new variations,
to the same ancient music.

If at times a sobering truth
impelled us to acknowledge,
that the opus of our works
was merely a divertimenti,
played by a band of blind mice,
we still believed,
in that grand symphonic final.

It is reassuring to know,
we can still whistle a broken melody,
as a concert hall empties out
into that long, voiceless night.
...

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The concert hall was filled with kids,
Their families in tow.
As nana (and my husband, grandpa)
We were thrilled to go.

We clapped our hands and sang along
While bopping to the beat,
An audience enchanted;
(For the band, no easy feat).

It’s wonderful to see the world
Through children’s waiting eyes,
So ready to receive the joy
They rightly recognize.

And it’s a privilege to be there
As witness to their growing,
And maybe add a little bit
To what they’ll end up knowing....

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What is that music she plays? Many wondered aloud.
We did not name it, but it was truly new for the in-crowd.
It is Chopin, someone said, which told the newbies nothing at all.
They never heard it again until they found a great concert hall.

It’s the way of the masters, classical, gorgeously done said one.
Soothing soul music, that shines as bright as any old sun.
We love this melody and want it to do even more for us they said.
Proof that their blown-out-ears were not completely dead....

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