Maestro: a poem for Valentine’s Day
On full swell and with abundant stops out
you ensnared me in your fortissimo
with the ebullience of a maestro
who has not a semi-quaver of doubt.
You knew a moderate tune would bore me
when I required my body and spirit
to augment into a frenetic fit
of diatonic notes exempt from key.
I watched your broad hands plough the ivory
and sow seeds of possession in each note,
the linen wings of your surplice afloat
as you caroused in tonal rivalry.
Leaning to turn pages, I felt your breath
tease my ear in a capriccio dare
and smelled wood-smoke and incense in your hair
so I ached somewhere between life and death.
As an infinite note trapped between staves,
I became a part of your concerto
oft played presto and seldom larghetto
in a passion of agitato waves.
(c)Sarah Potter, 1994
Dedicated to my musician husband,Victor, with love xxxx