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Stories of time and history etched
I sat watching my grandfather’s hands
the two of us there, the stroke in a stitch
How I longed to understand

Twas such a melodious memory of him
as my bright eyes watched him play
“O When the Saints Go Marching In”
Side by side we sat that day

As the enticing monarch found its place in the sky
came an echo through the trees
my fingers did follow, my fingers did try
Curiosity given to pleas

Curiosity unfettered, its roots breaking through
the first weep of a willow now taking its root

As time like the sun quietly faded away
As his worn and wise hands left the keys
The monarch, freed, no longer could stay
This treasure overcame me

Unsure and unbridled, our monarch departed
dawn relinquished its rays to the day
Worn hands spread my wings, their wisdom imparted
Now confident hands did play

As the willows weep, her splendor sings
Keys like wings yielding life, I am finally free
Dear grandfather, I thank you for these wings
As water gives life, yes life we do need

These keys, his worn and wise hands bestowed
her music like peace showered over my soul.


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