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The Organist
Contributed by
nvember
on
Saturday, 23rd December 2006 @ 01:07:55 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Slender and slight,
Reminiscent of some delicate flower whose perfume stirs up memory,
She sits poised, commanding the structure
Of pipes and ivory.
She has seen all of eighteen summers,
Many of them from this seat, high above
That of the pastor, or his audience, or even the choir.
Hymns roll down whitewashed walls
Painted by glass with stains of light.
Outstretched, her thin hands
(Ringless, save for one on each index
And one on a thumb, all of Celtic design) move in unison;
Long, sensitive fingers
Sink deeply into the keyboards
(or manuals as they are called)
at once enslaving and liberating the instrument with measured caresses
alien (so far) to young men.
Twinkling in the shadows below the black gauze skirt
That reaches down to her ankles
And billows in the spring breeze that drifts through open loft windows,
pale bare feet dance an elfin ballet across a forest of wood
the color of clover honey and chocolate.
Free of the comfortable leather sandals that lie kicked off on the floor nearby,
delighting in springtime,
girlish toes summon deep harmonious thunder
with each gentle press and release of a pedal
polished by her tread for half a young lifetime.
Copyright ©
nvember
... [
2006-12-23 01:07:55] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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