Reaching four score years I find
my body is slower than my mind.
In imagination I can rise above
aching joints that will not move.
My total lack of musical ability
no barrier to mental facility.
Mozart, Beethoven, and Liszt,
all to my arthritic fingers grist.
In celebration of each new day,
as I lie in bed I begin to play
along with music from Radio 3,
it’s piano concertos just for me.
Fingers race on imaginary keys,
and as I exercise, aim to please
a fantasy audience with my skill,
giving them all a musical thrill.
Stiff joints and fingers soon relax
caressing notes like Emanuel Ax.
But, just in case they feel neglected
I switch to feet when it’s expected,
Tapping to jigs, or Scottish reels –
just catching the music as it feels;
and once I lose my inhibition
I leap around to any position!
Feb. 2021