The Pianist
They take a seat at the device,
Flexing as they get ready.
A small nod to the onlookers,
Then the magic begins.
Fingers dancing on a black and white floor,
Rising and falling as the waltz.
Pulling you in, like a siren's song.
Drowning you in melody.
Swaying as your senses are visited,
Warm chocolate on your tongue,
The heat of a fire on a winter's morn,
Bursts of colour enter your vision,
The sound caresses your body.
Once the magic ends, you stand,
Eyes shining in appreciation,
Hands stinging from applaud.
The pianist's work is done.