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Rated: E · Poetry · Music · #1326253
Mixing it up is the music of life
Playing in Time

Two beats per measure, the half note gets one
The wait is forever and she sighs with a moan
Her eyes wander off and she loses it all
The easiest part makes her stumble and fall

Four quarter notes then must be played all the same
Each beat is reached easily, soundly and so
When the make believe crowd stands up in applause
She graciously smiles and accepts with a bow

Once she masters this skill, it's time to move on
Sixteenth notes arrive to add to the mill
Speed up her heartrate, fingers cramp in their haste
The metronome drones on after every mistake

The sinker comes when it gets all stirred up
One slow and one fast, then one fast and one slow
With a sixteenth sitting on the heels of a half
A rest following and stopping her fast

She counts to herself just as she's taught, 
One ee and two ee and three ee and  four
She's hopeless and frustrated feeling failure today
but still back tommorrow, and ready to play

Why does she do this every Tuesday at four?
No parent dictates or waits by the door
She asks herself why, this beating she takes
Her head throbs with the noise that she makes

She embraces the ride even so
Not always fun, but still there's a thrill
In getting it right after fifty three years
In creating a new song and moving along

She sees the seasons are just like the notes
Some will come fast, then remain much too long
Some she must wait for, then sadly see go
Without each the song would be nothing at all.

 
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