The minstrel, once wandering upon many high seas,

now happy in contentment, leans over to hear the pleas

and thank you’s for bringing Neil Sedaka to life

upon a Sunday afternoon for the city and its colourful wife.

It’s the richness of the voice, the sadness in the detail

and the desire to bring some freshness to what else the month makes stale.

The delicate sound of a raindrop pouring on silk is full of love,

tickles the ears and brings praise to the lord of the voicebox from up above.

I love the piano man’s joy, his radiant smile as he accompanies in having a ball

of pitch perfect rhythm in the small studio hall

and the way his fingers move along the scale, delicate but with harsh authority,

a dedication to bring some old fashioned beauty to a Sunday afternoon the key.

I wish for a month of Sundays, to sit in relaxed repose

and the world outside, the violence, the heartache and bitterness I foreclose.

Ian D. Hall  2015.