Like ballerinas, her fingers danced across the keys. <br />There was music in the grace her movements capture. <br />Though I hear not, my eyes behold the delicate rapture. <br />Her hands sway as if soft flowers in the breeze. <br /> <br />Her eyes close as she hears the melody she makes. <br />In the rhapsody of her music she is carried away. <br />Transfixed by her graceful movements I can only gaze. <br />My eyes drink in every nuance her body makes. <br /> <br />Others hear the beauty of the melodic sound. <br />The music transports them to another place. <br />They can hear, but do not see the beauty of her face. <br />I alone can see her amidst the grace that she abounds. <br /> <br />Like ballerinas, her fingers dance with every measure. <br />Like a captured soul, my eyes drink in the lovely treasure. <br />I am captured and my eyes drink in the lovely treasure.<br /><br />Gary Bryson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-from-a-deaf-admirer/
