Every night I dream again, and see what I’ve seen before.
A gentle smile, kind blue eyes, his chiseled hands,
A musician at his piano playing all the notes he’s played before.
Two melodies blend into one sweet song,
the song of the instrument made by man
And the timid beat of a joyful heart
as it dances and twirls in its own revelry.
In this world there is nothing else,
no other beings dare interrupt the moment.
There is only him as he sits at his piano, so concentrated and serene.
His beautiful notes fly up into the air and gather about him,
as in love with their creator as I.
They surround him like a shimmering cloud of faery dust,
gently hovering about him as he plays.
Standing just out of sight beyond the light he sheds, I sigh and dream.
Even in my reverie I wish for the love we could share.
Even in my own reality I am too shy to act.
As I gaze on I see him as he has always been,
Sitting at his piano playing all the notes he’s played before…
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