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Show THE MELODY LINGERS He places fingers onto ivory keys And at his touch, the muteness in the air Disperses into psalms of joy. He frees Me from my silent world, and I am there Where lilting melodies caress my ears, Where hope in languid tone is all around, Where hurt and pain are washed away and tears Are gone, His song is made of soaring sound. He mends my tattered dreams with careful hands Which brush with fragile tenderness the white And black keys of my life. He understands Crescendos of swift, glowing notes of light. And as his music touches broken lives, The pieces weld and heal, the soul revives |