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My Song


His teeth are piano keys
singing softly to me
every time that he smiles,
making our love worthwhile.
His lovely cello eyes
have that dark maple glaze
that elicits sighs
from his audience:
me,
in a daze.
His shoulders are a steady bass
that handle each note of life
with grace
never stumbling,
never grumbling,
always a steady thrum.
His heart is the drum
beating out a rhythm of peace;
the only sound I want to hear
before I fall asleep.


-- Amanda S., 18