Piano Practice
by June Nash
.
Mommy, why must I stay?
Must I the piano play?
My friends are all outside
Running, laughing, so gay
.
Mommy, was this your dream?
Through me, you live, it would seem
For you I will abide
I work hard to see you beam
.
Mommy, why must I stay?
Must sit at keys and play?
My feelings they collide
For it’s such a sunny day
This is my second poem, written for the painting of my granddaughter sitting at a piano. I haven’t had a chance to get any more work done on the painting last week. Too busy with what life throws my way. I have it, not quite completed but close, hanging, unframed, on my living room wall. I enjoy looking at it, it inspires me to make some time to finish it.
The photo shown is the original photograph that the painting was created from. It is an organ, not a piano, but I am taking advantage of my poetic license.
June Nash 
Poetic license again. She wasn’t taking lessons. We were visiting her great grandmother. They had an organ in the lobby of the building. She was playing, as in pretending, while she waited until it was time for everyone to leave. LOL!
I thought it looked like she was being forced to take lessons, that is why I wrote the poem that way.
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I was wondering how many wood pianos had a 2nd keyboard – lol
Very nice partner to the picture. Hope she has better luck than I did.
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