While walking past your dim lit window,

I see you on your tippy toes,

A violin in hand.

You sway to unheard rhythms,

Songs which I would die to know.

Flash back, a solo in the Hall.

The old men pause, adjust their tweed

Coats, turtle necks, and face

Your face that seems to show

A tune that no one else could sing.

And me, a young boy in the crowd,

Amongst such high society,

Transfixed, in wonder of

The solace in your art,

Ready to swear my anxious piety.

Return. Outside thin glass I stand.

Long gone, the Hall, the heels, the teary,

Worn eyes, the plaid trousers

Set snug against the men

Whose memories you’ve played, now weary.

I watch some more, make up some notes.

They narrate the path we’ve tread.

Crescendo love and feeling!

Decline on leaving soon

To different worlds, don’t come back dead.

Passion, Anguish, Flash Back Again!

Unamused Authorities might decide your priorities,

But we demand your love.

Presume I’ll be alright?

Don’t slight me with your talk of today,

Tomorrow, the future returns.

I bear your tears.

But do you understand my fears?

Prepare for life! The last twist of the knife.

I resume my looking through the vase.

Encase the rose that I still love

But cannot please nor

Disappoint. I’m simply here

Beyond the glass, not from above.

So play your violin, my dear,

I’ll always watch with brazen eyes.

Bounce on your toes and flow

To every day gone by.

Your music gets me past life’s lies.