It sits, quiet and waiting in my living room;
for a familiar face to sit down at its stool,
and start to play.
Boxy and big as a youthful elephant; its
shape like a rubix cube straight and sleek at its edge,
in gold and black.
Satin black like the blanket of a dark night;
Ivory white keys plated across the board; silky
as a soap bar.
The keys - small penguins in line on the panelled wood;
The beat - clicking of a metronome keeping time – tick,
tock goes the clock.
Tchaikovsky, Mozart and Beethoven flit through the halls;
Sound sifts softly to a melodious tune; a slip
of a hand – BONG.
Now, after nearly half a decade of music; it
has begun to weather away, the keys have softened;
but still brings happiness.
Now the legacy of music has been passed on to my sister to play;
So that the joy my piano brings will live on for another day.