Poetry Friday 32

Poetry Friday 32, well, well, well, will it ever stop? Three poems this week, A piano, a label and a folly.  Hope you enjoy.

For audio click here.

This first poem is really a work in progress. If you have any suggestions on how to tidy it up, please let me know.

The Concert Pianist

The upright piano

tempted,

intrigued,

amused.

She had to play.

Manipulating the clumsy keys

with her slender fingers,

she tentatively picked out a modest tune.

She plucked a second, third, fourth melody

now playing with gay abandon

enjoying the rustic sound,

and bringing out the best

from the humble strings.

But soon,

the brash acoustics could no longer

satisfy one used to more subtle tones.

So with a smile, she shut

the lid and it fell silent.

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

I believe

I am,

so,

I shall be.

The Faulty Satnav

“Driver followed satnav

And got stranded in the sea!”

That headline makes you wonder

how thick you have to be

to follow your new gadget

when it takes you for a ride

ignoring all the evidence

that’s right before your eyes.

You think we might have learnt

from this epic fail

but history’s repeating

on a grander scale.

We’ve keyed in our coordinates

and will stay the course

despite the warning signs, we’re

not getting off this horse.

We don’t care if there’s trouble

won’t take no buts or ifs

This country has decided, so

we’ll drive off the Brexit cliff.

So that’s it for another week. I feel like Poetry Friday is a bit like Brexit. It started as a desperate measure in the summer and now I just can’t stop it. To discover if it keeps trundling on out of control, tune in next week.
Have a good weekend.