Rose Petals on a Piano

To love you is to play a piano adorned with rose petals,
One must be gentle as the keys are depressed,
Yet must command them well,
The petals,
Beautiful to behold,
Gentle to brush lightly,
Soft to touch.

The beautiful music comes,
From the touch of the pianist,
The tone of the piano,
To the ear of the listener,
To their consciousness,
Evermore.

But the beauty is not just the music,
It is the sight,
The wood of the piano,
The black and white,
The stark contrast there,
Another in the red of the petals,
They are so different,
Yet they work so well,
Each adding to the others beauty.

To love you is to play a piano adorned with rose petals,
Beautiful in every way,
In the heavy bass,
The starlight treble,
The soft hands,
The lightness of the petals.

But should the player miss a note,
Misjudge the length of a crotchet,
Should a pedal be held too long,
A string snap,
The beauty is gone,
And who wants that?

So to love you is gentle,
But firm,
To trust you,
To know you,
To help you,
To make beautiful music.

To love you is to play a piano adorned with rose petals…

Written for LushStories by StillUndecided