Within the corner of the room br Her old piano stands, br The curtains drawn the view obscured br Across those verdant lands, br That warmed her kindly heart with joy br Brought music to her soul, br Now for her life that ended here br The village church bells toll. br br She'd played those keys so softly br Through the evening's soothing light, br The strains of Chopin's nocturnes br Floated long into the night, br And stoked each flaming sunset br In the skies of burning gold, br Then lit the stars of heaven br Now the room is dark and cold. br br The walls are bare where pictures hung br The ornaments have gone, br Now rows and rows of empty shelves br Where once her silver shone, br And yet the thing she treasured most br Was left and locked away, br For no one wished to take it br Or had found the urge to play. br br The window closed through which she stared br And all the birds could hear, br Her music from the trees above br To them the sound so clear, br They gathered in the branches br How they loved the tunes she played, br Yet now there's only silence br As they watch the evenings fade. br br br br Copyright.