Sometime I wish I had a piano
In a long list of wishes may be another addition
Or if my pen was a piano key
On lazy afternoons of summer
When touched softly
Its music would break the silence of this room
The languid humming of air conditioner
Would mellow in its sweet sound
The colors esoteric in nature
Ascending through air reaching to empyrean
Would shower upon me in sweet paean
I do laugh at the idea though
That sounds so perfect in phantasmagoria
The trill coming out of the keys
Would probably be as smudged and muddled
As the writing coming out of this pen
Backed only with a dull desire or inclination to write
When would I realize that the pen or the piano key
Both are substitute for my inability
To sit quiet and enjoy the stillness.
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Comments about this poem (A Piano by Savita Tyagi )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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