As he sits in the darkness
The yearning begins
He tries so hard to remember
His younger, pain free days
He remembers the music though
Each and every lyric
Each and every beat
Each and every wink he got
From girls in the audience
He wants that back so badly
He remembers the feeling
Of drumsticks in his hands
His foot controlling the bass drum beat
As he starts the basic rhythm
The sound of a drumstick
Striking closed hi-hat cymbals
With his right hand
As his left hand begins
The classic snare drum beat
He may not remember much anymore
But he will never forget the beat
Or the timing of every song
The music will always remain
Always
~The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2019 All Rights Reserved
Brilliant Walt!
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Why thank you! 😊💛
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You are most welcome!
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😊
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The music always remains
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Indeed 😊
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What a fun poem, Walt. I also love music.
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Thanks Robbie! 😍 Music is a large part of my life.
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Wow! Such an Awesome post, Walt!! Very moving and meaningful! A slice of life reality to be sure!! Brought tears to my eyes because the last memory I have of my Dad was playing some old time hymns on the piano and having him remember each one, every word and note on key and in time. An awesome feat for he had Alzheimer’s. It took me almost six years to write about it. It still brings me to tears every time I read it – “A Special Time With Him”.
I love your words, My Friend!
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What a lovely memory dear friend, thank you for sharing it! I will go read your poem 😊
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet and commented:
Some memories never leave us – THE MUSIC REMAINS
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Thank you for your kindness Chuck 😊
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The heart of a musician… ❤️❤️
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Indeed 😊💛
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Nice one Walt, truly heart felt. Love it.
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Thanks so much JC. Glad you enjoyed it 🙂
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And today Walt, another string to the bow.
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And another beat of my hesrt.
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