Steinway

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Ivory keys and black strips of onyx are played quietly.
Lights are dimmed low
no one else listens,
just the player and his music.
Shadows dance on the wall, the floor,
the stage.

They merge together,
each black inky figure,
melting into their mate and quickly
become one with the other.

Only the player breaths,
until the arrival of a gem, a sleek body
covered in shimmering red.

Pausing for a moment,
breath held,
suspended.

The ivory keys are now a fumbled mess
eyes lock,
hearts take flight,
and the sound of rushing wind
fills the ears of the dancing shadows.

Clicks of heels leave the floor as she’s lifted,
placed on the edge of an expensive seat.
A diamond on a glittering array of
black and white. Pressed back
as the dragging sound of a bench
slides across the floor.

There. . .
the melody now played on a different instrument.
Chords are pressed by a Master’s stroke

Ivory keys and black strips of onyx are now pounded
by feet that are gripping tight as they are anchored down.

Music of a different nature fills the air
as the Maestro builds up another crescendo.
Bringing the jewel to its peek and the ebbing sounds of
a composing musician
and his beautiful instrument
fill the room with song.

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1.0
RedHairedandFriendly
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LeBrozLeBrozabout 17 years ago
~~

The Steinway ~ the perfect place on which to place that passionate instrument and play it for all it's worth until all passions peak and then return to a world of black and white.