They gave me a piano
pale blue, a baby grand.
I practised on it
ker plunk,
ker plink.
They said I was good
and suggested piano lessons.
Because they said I could, I took
piano lessons.
She was Scottish, the piano teacher,
she would make drop scones at the drop of a chord.
I wrote a piece, she played it.
It bore no resemblance
to what I believed I had written.
Polly Robinson © 2012
