To Dennis; a poco con amor

Imagine a singer
who has spent her life dedicated
to the beauty of the song.
She has spent thousands of hours
doing her arpeggios and scales,
fine tuning her ears
and trying to emancipate
all the beauty inherent
in the most difficult music.
She has paid the price
of sore throats
and laryngitis
and of lost hours,
days
and months,
all for the glorious feeling she gets
when the songs swells perfectly
from her lips.

Now she is old
and her vocal cords
can no longer stand the strain
of high notes
sudden changes
And sustained lows.
Now she can hear
the music even more clearly
In her mind,
but she can no longer
join the other instruments
and singers
In creating the great beauty
of opera or symphony.
Now she must content herself
with simple pieces
That don’t strain her fading abilities.
her instrument has failed her
when she knows most the music,
and she cannot replace it
Because it is a part of her.

My music is love
and all my life
I have tried to share its beauty
by living the songs
with others.
I, too, am old
and unable to stand the strain.
My tattered soul can no longer
endure the difficult parts
in order to make the harmonious beauty
of the whole.
Now I must play second fiddle
to life.
And abandon the great unsingable song
for the simple ditties of friendship
that I can still manage.

You are the song
I can no longer sing.

Elf alias Joy Lynn Rosser [Marshall]

To Dennis; a poco con amor

ElfJoyRosser

Benton, United States

  • Artist
    Notes
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.