That Night

That night I learned to play the violin,
the moonlight seemed to dance upon the floor.
The ghost of Paganini drifted in.
He floated there, just looking on in awe.

My bow flashed back and forth across the strings.
The instrument obeyed my every whim.
The music soared on fine, majestic wings.
While Paganini’s face grew e’er more grim.

I played until my worn out fingers bled.
I played until the room began to spin.
I fell exhausted down upon my bed.
That night I learned to play the violin.


That Paganini really is a miserable git.

Re: That Night

Haha! very good

Re: That Night

You know what it's like, Pixie, those nights when you are at a loose end.

Re: That Night

Well, most people grab a book or a glass of wine....it tales a special kind of person to pen a poem

Re: That Night

I was talking about leaning the violin, Pixie.

Re: That Night

I know I was going to reply that it takes a special person to play an instrument to exhaustion, but feared it might be taken out of context and I would end up blushing.......

Re: That Night

Excellent Harbal! I love the punchline

Re: That Night

Forget the punchline ...

The rest is so Leonard Cohen

Applauses

Re: That Night

I love that you love it, Bathsheba.

Re: That Night

I've just gone through it, imagining his voice, d00d. And You're right.