Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 97
Come join us!
“Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to
realize you're really strangers.”
~Mary Tyler Moore
True love always moves me to tears
The kind that flow like piano keys
Touched by Liberace
Yet there are things that cannot be touched
Only loved from afar
And ghosts that cannot be seen
But they are there just the same
Secrets as real as the luxury of pearls
But a rare few will get to hold them
Bare as the back in an elegant gown
A am witness to the deepest of concertos
For I never learned to play by ear
But I learned to listen well
To all the missing chords in verse
and every song unsung
you played me for a fool
but the solo is yours alone
I carry the tune with me
But I have learned to moved on
For true love always moves me to tears
And you were no Liberace!
Great bittersweet words towards the end. And loved the way you wrote of things not there. Nice one.
ReplyDeleteAh, the course of true love never seems to run smoothly … especially for faux Liberaces!!
ReplyDeleteLove is not always the symphony we deserve....i love that you learned to listen well. Me, too.
ReplyDeleteLiberace makes piano playing look easy, but it's quite difficult. Listening and hearing are also difficult. One can listen to and enjoy the music, but those that can hear the missed notes, sense when something is out of tune, there is a deeper perception there not only of music but of discerning when something or someone doesn't ring true.
ReplyDeleteI like the Liberace reference. The story interprets the photo really well.
ReplyDeleteLove the way you give the poem an undertone of excess (Liberace/luxury) and then link it to the foolishness of the not-quite-beloved. :)
ReplyDeleteI like a lot of music by people not considered very hip, and Liberace is one of those. I also like Andy Williams, the Tijuana Brass, Petula Clark, etc. But I also like AC/DC. I'm weird, I know!
ReplyDeleteYou brought back memories, wonderful memories, of my grandparents glued to their tv for the Liberace show. I snuck a few peeks myself.
ReplyDeleteOh Carrie, this runs so true with me even though in the first neither of us played piano. Our song was for a long time until her real player came home from the wars to stay.
ReplyDeleteFor the second the music became worn and torn and she went elsewhere (for one of her students, like a boy toy player).
..
". . . But I learned to listen well
ReplyDeleteTo all the missing chords in verse
and every song unsung . . . "
And compare that to Liberace! Well played.
And sometimes learning to listen well
ReplyDeleteis enough. Well said, Carrie!
Love has a way of bringing tears.
ReplyDeleteLove the quote - the poem has a very nice voice and I like "learned to listen well" and the "!" of an ending.
ReplyDeleteDressed to kill but not to last. The listener will get to hold her pearls someday.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful piece, fits the photo.
ReplyDelete