Faded Memory

Experimental

I am five .
I listen to my mothers call as she plays vibrantly on the piano . The keys potrude the most peculiar sound. I like it .
I like my mothers smile while she plays this huge but rather fascinating instrument .
I clap my hands, I smile with rosy cherub cheeks and dimples .
She laughs like a bird singing .
What a pretty sound.
I listen sitting on the marble floor . Its cold but I don't care I want to listen .
I feel excited .
She moves with the music. I wonder how I can make sounds like hers on the Piano.
She plays more and more I lie down.
I begin to drift slowly into slumber.
But I am not asleep .
I'm running through a golden meadow after the music that is playing.
But the meadow is like an ocean and I am suddenly in a splendid ship, like my favourite ship Father had given me .
I am sailing, sailing on music notes.
And I do not hear the wind because it is not the wind, it is Mother and her pretty laugh.

I am sailing through the golden ocean meadow on broken music notes with pretty whispering winds and I can hear her laugh.
I am five and I can hear her laugh.

Reviews

[Another Relic]

This one had a real dreamy affect to it with such a nice description of a childs mind involved in the joy of her mothers piano and memory. All steming from love. Nice job Rosyln

[E. L. Foley]

This piece conjures a lovely image--I particularly like the catalog of "I"s, so true to a 5 year old perspective. Excellent of bold, italic, etc.

[RosylnPeaches]

The song I was listening to when I wrote it - Valse Romantique by Claude DeBussy.

[Steven Norton]

which song is this for?

[siamois]

I really enjoyed the point of view of this. It was so refreshing.

[Soul Magic✯]

wow this is beautifully written. i enjoyed the journey from beginning to end. amazing ink :)

[Samuel Dickens]

I'm not sure which is more prominent here, the memory of mother, the music, or that of being small, but together, a wondrous image emerges.

[Coyote Poetry]

Music is a gift to our soul. Someone who is skills and with great ability can bring us to a better place. I like the poem. You told a kind and beautiful story. Thank you.
Coyote