I’ve recently been teaching myself how to play piano. Apart from popping down to London to have a go playing in public (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2680r2xUYLk)  I’ve also been working on my poetry. Debussy is an amazing composer and this short piece tries to capture some of that magic and splendour that accompanies playing one of his pieces.

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I place my hands on middle C,

to try my hand at Debussy.

For despite my unacquainted ear,

and motives that remain unclear

I really want to learn this piece

to let the modern day, decease

and float along in days gone by,

where I never have to say goodbye.

For here I sit to play those notes

that once a minstrel would have spoke

“‘hear the finest work in all of France

and do not dare to miss the chance!”

so concert halls filled to capacity,

with patrons of such strong voracity

for all whom the music captured,

sat silent, still, and lay enraptured.

For his great work transcends the ages

and year on year it fills the stages,

for magic lies in those black notes

that so long ago he wrote.

His presence in this world so missed,

Debussy, the great impressionist.

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Ode to Debussy

London Air

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It’s in the air, you feel it bringing

the smog, the grime, to skin, all clinging.

But I’d never dare complain,

for of course I’d share in vain.

For in the air there is a buzz,

a certain hype and promise loved

of real excitement and opportunity,

to be in London, the global community.

London in the rain

The lashing rain and skies all grey,

tourists wishing for brighter days.

Walkers run, and runners smile,

they know it’ll only last a while.

For this is London and rain’s expected,

a cautious forecast, much respected.

A dash for cover, a moments peace,

a clap of thunder, the clouds release.

But I stand content despite the weather,

under cover,  wrapped up together.

We look around and all agree

There’s no where we would rather be.