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Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Piano

Eighty-eight bars spread
like flattened staircase.
A concoction of alternating
ebonies and ivories  on which slender, graceful fingers
tiptoe, hop, dance to the sound of notes being
played simultaneously, to the waltz of the Blue Danube,
to the dark, harrowing lament of the Sonata.

Hands on wood that sends
hammers and strings humming
the world's greatest melodies.
Echoing the depths of the human soul,
intense vibrations of sorrow, or romance, or joy,
A celebration of genius.
The vastness of man's imagination
captured in a majestic
work of art.

Standing on four legs,
it serenades the world
with the magnificence of music
passed on to generations.
'Tis a man's greatest invention
that has lived through scores and
decades and centuries of creativity and passion.
Pleasing, embracing,
touching hearts of  young and old.
Home to musicians lauding
the world's greatest Composer.

-Katherine Lopez, 15 November 2008


  1. you have spoken what's in my mind, inspiring poem.

  2. Hi Jingle! Thank you for your finding my poem inspiring. :)

  3. you are welcome, see you later.

  4. [...] [...]

  5. serenades the it. i never learned to play piano...only guitar.

  6. what a beautiful poem, describes the piano to a t, well written poem for thursday follow :)

  7. Hi Brian!

    Thank you. :)

    As for me, I can't play guitar, only the piano. :)