I hear your music in my head,
Tiptoeing through the stillness of my mind,
Echoing in the chambers of memory.
Stirring my soul with soothing fingers of gentleness,
Filling my being with floating light -
Soft butterfly notes fluttering through my fantasies,
Wispy, ethereal, soft as a zephyr breeze -
Transporting - freeing from earth's cloying clay
To heavenly heights beyond dreaming.

Tis there that pure love dwells
In crystal halls bathed in golden light,
Tis there it calls me back
To rest my weary head on the downy pillow of harmony -
All sensations afire, trembling with wonder at the purity
Of heavenly music from the fingers of the master.
I cannot tell from whence it came,
I only know I must hear again the haunting strains
That carry my soaring soul on clouds of rapture
To the Golden Halls where Music dwells.

©Ella Render.......7th December, 2001