The Dancer.

The Dancer.

A house full of memories and echoes of the past

The fading sunlight, shadows on the ceiling cast

Frozen moments caught in time and space

Of another time another place

 

Silence now echoes down the hall

A grandfather clock stands proud and tall 

A sentinel standing guard for a century

A silent witness, to time and memory

 

A painting of a young girl hangs in the hall 

Old family photographs adorn the wall

On the mantelpiece above the fireplace

A faded picture of a timeless face

 

The old piano once her pride and joy

A porcelain doll, a long abandoned toy

Now stands mute, silence fills the room

In the shadows and the gathering gloom

 

A book shelf reaches from ceiling to ground

What words of wisdom can still be found

Hidden among the brittle pages and the dust

And a faint fragrance of perfume and must.

 

The old house now silent and empty 

Last sanctuary of a peculiar old lady

A place of refuge, where she could hide

Safe and secure from the world outside

 

Where a shy young girl used to play

She had been the last to pass away

An only child, a lonely woman, a sheltered life

Who cared for her father after the death of his wife

 

Somewhere in the distance, music begins to play

On a finely tuned piano, a melody from another day

And moving slowly as if in a trance

The girl in the painting begins to dance…

 

C Denis Murphy 29 April 2020.

 

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