Notes

Black notes on a page A sharp B, and flat E. The text I sing, comes not from me, But from a poet from a long gone age. Dickinson, Whitman, Poe and Shakespeare When spoken, sounds musical to the ear. But only in music, ah yes, in music, Does its meaning to me become clear. How lucky was I to be given the gift of voice, And how grateful am I to be given the choice To sing poetry and rejoice.