"Paino"
All 88 keys help make beutiful sound.
Played softly and light, or with fingers that pound,
Whatever the noise, music is found.
In a silent room it gracfully sings.
In a loud room it demands quiet form all things,
When I touch it, it lets out its ring.
This poem reminds me of my great-grandmother Pearl who taught herself how to play piano. She was also a gifted painter, sculpter, and all-around funny lady. :)
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