SONNET   (III)

MUSICAL APPRECIATION


Inactive fingers sit upon the chest
And ride the gentle rhythm of the lung.
Felt-slippered feet across a footstall slung
And elbows on the chair’s arm lie at rest.
The face composed and set within its mask
The shuttered eyes no images behold
Nor dreams inside the inner eye unfold;
The ears alone attendant to their task.
Each note, pre-echoed in the mind, consumed
With eagerness and savoured as a whole.
For warmth and piquancy the tone assessed
And met with like emotion. How groomed
The style? Phrasing measured in the soul;
And ageless time into a song compressed.