A memory was triggered in my heart,
Looking back to those times
When my lover and I played music,
Played music together.
Those wonderful times in the band
Swinging away to the audiences,
Where my trumpet would blast out
And such sweet sounds came from her clarinet,
Or from her voice when she stood in front
And her wonderful voice rang out in the room.
So many fine memories,
But the finest of them all
Was playing music with my lover.
It is not the same playing without her,
But when I play I know she is with me
And one day we will be playing our music,
Playing our music together
As we always used to before,
Before she went to play,
Play in heaven’s band.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 24th, 2021 02:21
- Comment from author about the poem: I have recently started playing clarinet again, my wife and I used to play together in a clarinet choir. We joined a swing band where I took up trumpet. My wife continued with clarinet and was also the singer in the band and the song on the video was one of those that she used to sing with the band. Wonderful memories.
- Category: Love
- Views: 36
Offline)
Comments3
A poignant write Gold. Play loud, both of you, to drown out my singing. Remember now! lol.
Thank you Orchi, I thought you would have been able to hear my trumpet!.
Andy
May your very treasured musical memories stay ever close to your playing by knowing you are still hearing that lovely voice and clarinet accompanying you dear Andy.
Thank you so much for your kind words Fay, much appreciated.
Andy
exemplifying:
that its not only by 'letting go' or 'moving on' that we can deal with loss,
even if we choose to hold on, that too is a method we can utilise,
as long we're still ambling forward one shaky step at a time
and greeting that future: together..
a wonderful dedication Andy
Thank you Mek she is always with me.
Andy
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