SING ME A SONG

SING ME A SONG

Sing me a song.

Write me a melody.

Of times gone by

And moments lost in time.

 

Stroke the keys.

Massage the ivories.

Raise your voice high

Until all can hear your words.

 

Words of hope and loss.

Sing them loud and clear.

Stories of far away places

And times long gone.

 

I close my eyes.

I can still hear your words.

I can see your fingers

Stroking the keys so softly.

 

The words have taken flight.

They reverberate through time.

They have left your lips

To land in my heart.

 

A sweet melody

To soothe my advancing years.

A pretty song

To fill my empty heart.

Source:

THE LIGHTHOUSE

THE LIGHTHOUSE“Come back to me my sweet.Take a break from the heat.An afternoon in a cool retreat.We could make our own special heat.”The wood door rattles and creaks open wide.I hesitate before I walk inside.The small room is as dark as night.I begin to tremble with fright.Maybe I should leave this place.The door slams shut in my face.I hear the voice in the airTelling me, “what fair is fair.”I intruded on this secret roomAnd so I won’t be leaving too soon.

“Come back to me my sweet.
Take a break from the heat.
An afternoon in a cool retreat.
We could make our own special heat.”
The wood door rattles and creaks open wide.
I hesitate before I walk inside.
The small room is as dark as night.
I begin to tremble with fright.
Maybe I should leave this place.
The door slams shut in my face.
I hear the voice in the air
Telling me, “what fair is fair.”
I intruded on this secret room
And so I won’t be leaving too soon.

PLAY ME A SONG

“Self Portrait with a Harp” (1791) (detail) by Rose-Adélaïde Ducreux (1761-1802).

 

Play me a song.

Don’t get me wrong.

I love your singing voice.

But the harp is my choice.

The music soothes my sad soul.

From the day taking its toll.

I need the music today.

Please sit down for me and play.

THE LIGHTHOUSE

THE LIGHTHOUSE

“Come back to me my sweet.
Take a break from the heat.
An afternoon in a cool retreat.
We could make our own special heat.”
The wood door rattles and creaks open wide.
I hesitate before I walk inside.
The small room is as dark as night.
I begin to tremble with fright.
Maybe I should leave this place.
The door slams shut in my face.
I hear the voice in the air
Telling me, “what fair is fair.”
I intruded on this secret room 
And so I won’t be leaving too soon.

THE VOICE

The evil within.

We all have that voice inside.

The voice enticing us to be bad.

Offering suggestions of revenge.

Immoral ways to succeed.

It never sleeps.

It appears in our

dreams and nightmares.

Forever ready to lead us

down dark pathways.

Always on the hunt for

new followers.

We don’t have to feed it.

Let it starve.

COME PLAY ME

The house sits empty.

Deserted for years.

Dust its sole visitor.

The grand piano waits for a voice.

Someone to play its keys.

One last song before

it’s too late.

Before its beauty is lost.

Before it joins the dust.

Come play me.