ebony n' ivory

ebony ´n ivory

a

Poem

You need not be a

Poet

For even a Common-man can see, how

Magnificent she stands

The Queen

Of the Orchestra

The elder strings, the angelic woodwinds

And the red-blooded brass

Bow to her elegance and sovereign voice

The drum-heads are struck

With vigor and glee

The beaten animal skins roar with praise

And

Rhythmic adoring of she

Her stature and mere presence dominates

The Royal Symphony

The Concert Hall

Becomes alive with the sound of her song

Filling the ears of all those fortunate

To obtain license to this musical court

Her place in history is decreed

Bach ... Mozart ... Beethoven

Her suitors who loved and courted her

And

These noble gentlemen wrote

To her

Poems of Love

Given to her 88 keys, taunt wire strings and pleasing melody

I am a Poet

I could go on-´n-on

About her enchanting charm

But

Elizabeth,

Ebony and Ivory

Cannot compete

With your

Eternal Beauty

Sincerely,

Your Poet

Photo Credits

Copyright © Elizabeth Ashley Photography

Copyright © ralph marie de largo

5th October 2011

150 Werdz