who leaves music in her wake
melodies fly from her fingertips
sing themselves through her heart and mind
she finds them for me
as we sit, laughing
or talking on our pillows at night
on those rare weekends together
plays them on my piano
or hers
or any piano standing idle
I can sit beside her with my guitar and sing along
and she grins and keeps singing
Randy can pick up the violin
and she grins even more
and keeps singing
the music just keeps bubbling up
and running over and watering my soul
I shall not want
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