IOI (7/4/1934 / Hebburn.Co Durham U.K)

Interlude Narrative Verse For M Lady Ernestine

The silent cello waits in vain.
Her owner can no longer play,
her twisted joints in so much pain
Arthritis has now won the day.

Those hands which once caressed the strings
are gnarled and twisted dreadfully
Though in her mind the cello sings,
its silent in reality.

The music stored within its soul
longs for release impatiently.
Its destiny to play a role
assisting some child prodigy.

The owner cannot bear to part
with her treasured instrument.
She holds a dream deep in her heart.
Some one will come who’s one intent

to learn to play the cello well.
Prepared to suffer for their art,
beglamoured by the subtle spell
this cherished cello can impart.

Her children show no interest,
no musical ability.
Perhaps, she thinks it’s for the best
The cello waits impatiently.

One day her grandchild comes to call
A pretty child who’s not yet five.
She exhibits no fear at all
her fingers bring the strings alive.

The cello knows this is the one.
The child it has been waiting for.
and grandma knows she has passed on.
The love she felt so long before.

Before she learnt to play a note.
She knew it was her destiny
that music was the antidote
to soothe her sensitivity..

The chills is lost in wonderment
and strokes the cello lovingly.
This could not be an accident.
It was her grandma’s legacy.

She seemed to know instinctively
Just as her grandmother had done
That music was her destiny.
The cello knew that it had won

In course of time the girl surpassed
The skill her grandma had possessed.
It was the spell the cello cast
She always said that made her best.

When grandma died she died content
Her well loved cello sang again.
Now her grand daughter’s instrument
Their patient wait was not in vain..

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If You Forget Me

Comments (1)

Thank you so much Ivor, this is a lovely poem. I did have a violin which had been handed down from my Mother, which I thought my daughter would like to learn to play. She did start lessons at school, but nothing come of them and eventually she sold the violin. The opposite of your story, which had a so much better ending. Bless you for writing it. I appreciate it very mcuh. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX