Surfing the Lines

By Noelle Lynskey


Her body sways with the quiet motion

Of a wave across it's sand

All emotion

Distilled through her flowing hands.

Her brushlike fingers


Stroke with knowing,

A touch, well tested

In practised years,

Scales with such ease

Without fear,


At times just a glance

Evokes the right response

Striking the cord

That glazes

A smile across her focused lips,


As shoulders conducting

Her sweep of limb

Across her canvas

Of black and white,

With a skim-


Fingers flit upwards

To a tinkle

Of airiness,

Sending signals

That makes her soul tingle


Then a pause....

Moted air steeped

In expectant grace notes,

With a flick of wrist

She whips the air,


Kneading hands

Sculpting new dynamics,

The vibrations of these

Wonderful harmonics

Leave her raw.


And not for the first time

I am in awe

At the five lines

That map

The world of sound.


Framed in fives

A simple stave,

On a sea of dots,

Clefs and bars

She crests the waves