She’d heard stories about the man on the hill
Conceited proud supercilious and still
She was drawn to his presence to see for herself
If all she’d heard was true as she rang the doorbell
An offer of cake covered and warm in hand
Peering through the window a baby grand
Stood proudly in the corner such a delight
Her fingers itched to play oh what a sight
A smile played upon her eager lips as she
Waiting patiently she sent up a silent plea
Perhaps not all was lost she decided for
A lover of music had heart at the core
He answered looking haunty and smug
She introduced herself with a slight shrug
He seemed surprised the snobby look gone
Holding out a hand he said “My name’s John.”
I wondered what you would do with this prompt, you didn’t disappoint.
It’s a great word. Thank you for your mind words to o. Appreciated so much.