You sit cross-legged upon a kitchen chair
Smiling happily
And sway from side to side as,
With your empty wine glass,
You conduct the Berlin Philharmonic
With Von Karajan.

That isn't strange. These thirty years
I have watched in fascination as,
With the alchemy of laughter,
You wrought in gold a life
As humdrum as suburban motherhood can be;
And always in the background,
Enchanting,
The elixir was Music

The children grew at last, and left,
And just we two remain
To listen,
And still the music plays.
I'll turn the tape, you fill your glass
And come and sit by me –
Von Karajan can play this one alone.

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