|
Tickle
by Clara Mae GregoryHis fingers danced across the black and white keys,
each step like music's heaven emitting harmonic sounds
that deflate the tensions so thick in my neck.
Yet, his fingers always finish by playing my spine
and giving my soul a good tickle.
Then saying my prayers,
I let his music kiss me to sleep. 05/15/2009 Posted on 05/15/2009
Copyright © 2026 Clara Mae Gregory
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 05/16/09 at 01:03 AM Could you send him over to my piano? Nice! |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 05/16/09 at 02:57 PM I like this.... quite wonderful..... |
| Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 05/16/09 at 03:54 PM Hmmm Beautiful :) |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 10/30/09 at 05:39 PM What a delightful moment you share. Makes me want to go back to my piano, the keys of which I have not touched in years... and learn a light song to play for my wife. Well done, my dear. |
|
