Brahms in Dusseldorf

Brahms in Dusseldorf

“Brahms in Dusseldorf,”
said the man on Radio Three,
“played his new piano sonata,
young as he would ever be.
To his audience in the concert hall,
it seemed in a strange and wayward key,
so it was greeted by bafflement and silence,
on that his biographers agree,
except by Richard and Clara Schumann,
who in an instant could see,
he was kin to them in spirit,
and so they took him home for tea.”

So he had his moment,
he had his time,
Brahms in Dusseldorf,
henceforth his life began to rhyme.

It was no joke being a sauropod,
once the biggest dinosaur around.
His stomp could be heard from a long way off,
his feet were heavy on the ground.
Now extinct, like the rest of them,
caused possibly by a comet
that came hurtling free and fiery,
ungovernably earth bound.
But what do I know?
I just play piano,
like to tinkle with keyboard sound.

May you have your moment,
may you have your time,
like Brahms in Dusseldorf,
henceforth your life begin to rhyme.

May you find your kin in spirit,
for company and tea,
like Brahms in Dusseldorf,
however strange and wayward your key.


4 thoughts on “Brahms in Dusseldorf”

      1. Your welcome. I am new to reading your works, but I think what I enjoy most about them is that they aren’t just pretty or emotional words that rhyme. They tell a story. I love that.

      2. Yes, now you have pointed it out, most of my poems do tell a story. I like some of the old folk ballads, which have inspired me to write ballads of my own. Writing tales in verse is something I like to do. Thank you very much for your encouraging comment, Sawyer.

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