Words Of The Keys
lined up in a row, each is struck with not a care.
by Joy Howarth
the silent thoughts pass by; so many.. so many words,
played beautifully as the keys slip through my fingers.
soon you will understand, how it is, and how it was.
till the end, the emotions will carry on between each slip and each stroke.
Your words, they ring like a metronome. Tick.. tick..tick.
Oh, the elephant keys.
How only you comfort me..