sound available
 

  Sunrise listened
  as I summoned your face to mine.
  Your arms around me
  in the silence of this empty rest;
  incomplete,
  I lie alone.

  My footsteps trace the hall
  lured to the solace of the keys
  where they wait in quiet yet whose strings
  are nagging like a woman scorned.
  I would write a song for you, my love.
  I would write a song of promise
  from the hollow of my core;
  complete,
  but still alone.

  I watch my hands across the keys
  from white to black
  and crevices between,
  the soundlessness is broken
  pulling tears out from the air.
  An ancient ballad intervenes,
  an offering lies opened.
  His silence stands alone.

  Louder I play, the tempo never rushed.
  I created this for him, can he not hear it?
  Slender trills, sudden rises,
  passion lost against the flicking pages
  of his flurried catalogue
  and coffee in the den.
		
  Now my soul sees only you;
  my love so many miles 
  and time away.
  I move my hands for your eyes.
  You, who finds beauty in every 
  breath I take.  You caress me with 
  your words.  With no reserve, 
  my soul lies bare.  Your face, 
  your voice, I bring you near. 
  You are the sound that fills my air.




    22 may 98
    M Madison


    If you clicked for sound above, you 
    are now listening to Nocturne Op.9 No.1 
    by Frédéric Chopin
    Born: 1810 in Zelazowa Wola (Poland)
    Died: 1849 in Paris, France