Sunday, January 11, 2015
Sunday Poetry - Virginia Graham
I know I could write music so entrancing,
the nightingales would faint from off the trees,
I'd set the young girls singing, shouting, dancing,
I'd make the old men hum like bumble-bees.
Oh lovely, lovely tunes! Some sweet, some gay,
with violins soaring lark-high to the moon,
and some for brassy bands on holiday,
and some to make the jitterbuggers swoon.
I'd bring a song of comfort for the lonely,
I'd make the quietly-beating heart go boom,
I could be Brahms or Beethoven if only
the piano wasn't in the other room.