Mama’s Piano

There you sit, tall and straight

As your fingers stroll lightly over the keys.

So fanciful are your tunes that

Black Hawks Waltz to Silver Bells

Underneath a Carolina Moon.

At times you play the

Blessings of an Amazing Grace

That march Christian Soldiers Onward.

Your tune tells about the

Holy Night on which He was born

And the Hill Far Away on which He died.

You can create a world where

Yellow Ribbons are Tied around Old Oak Trees,

A world where Frosty the Snowman

Marches in the Easter Parade,

A world where Everybody Loves Somebody

Though Smoke may Get in their Eyes.

Surely the Sweetest Thing I’ve Ever Known

Is your playing.

There you sit, tall and straight

As your fingers stroll lightly over the keys.