Like ballerinas, her fingers danced across the keys.
There was music in the grace her movements capture.
Though I hear not, my eyes behold the delicate rapture.
Her hands sway as if soft flowers in the breeze.
...
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Hi, I don't know how else to contact you. Mr. Bryson, I would love it if we could talk through email. I wanted to ask a you a question.
Gary, a wonderful line, '... Music in the grace of her movements.' I think poetry has a similar effect... like music produced from the stroke of a pen, you can't hear it... but it's there. Great write! ! Brian
An exceptional poem, How well you have captured the soul of this delicate and beautiful woman. Warm regards, Sandra
I would love to take the poem and write a song but i need permission not sure how to go about doing that here. Unless it's public domain but the years don't seem to fit with that.