Ivory Keys Poem by Sasha Ioffine

A pianist sat on his stool
The throng had hushed away
And when the violin had strummed
His fingers hovered in the air
And then began to play

A thousand pairs of eyelids
Bowed and fell into a trance
And ivory still echoing
The audience dozed gracefully
As thoughts broke into dance

The ecstasy on faces grew
To vivid, joyous smiles
And as the keys sped quicker now
The pianist grew fiercer
As he swiftly hit white tiles

The waterfall, as did his pace,
Transitioned to a brook
And as his climax had relaxed
So did his face become less tense
And fashioned a soft look

The artist painted final notes
To vibrate in the hall
And as he hit the final key
The faithful listeners awoke
And sadly that was all

There was not any mad applause
Nor cheerfulness, nor joy
And there was silence in the room
For there was no one to rejoice
Or shout happily, 'Oh Boy! '

And then somewhere a sob broke out
A cry it then became
And in the throng the rest had joined
Tearing in blissful unison
As all tears chimed the same

They all reflected happiness, not pain
As it so seemed
And all emotions grew to bliss
As the host's face became less grim
His lips now coyly beamed

The audience was much in awe
Of beauty that he made
On eighty-eight of blacks and whites
A melody of pure delight
Of wonder that he played