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
Sarah Potter Writes 