Here’s an old photo for an old song.
I think I’m about thirteen here, playing my ancient, beloved piano with the name ‘Kunkle’ written on the front in bold gold lettering. Not a very musically-sounding name, is it? It was no Steinway that’s for sure but it stayed in tune and had a friendly disposition which is all that mattered.
As I look back on it now, it seems learning to play the piano is a bit like learning to play life. You have to keep teasing out the difficult section until it runs smooth and then merrily, merrily life is but a dream until the next tricky patch and so it goes.
Growing Pains
Growing skywards slipping sideways
zooming ‘round and looking in
turning spirals leaping forwards
tripping up getting down
taking air sighing deeply
such despair oh willow weepy
tunnel diver aching heart’s
got the bends
growing pains
Quite determined a little nervous
ego bursting in a hurry
things to do places to go people to see
leaning out sliding backwards
figure eights on ice with dull-edged blades
eyes closed taking off
through fog landing the plane
growing pains
Come quickly I’m in trouble
there’s no joy in this struggle of building character
I have plenty thank you very much
don’t get something for nothing easy
hey, you’re young be light and breezy
but why is it I’m still wheezy
yet so wanting to sing?
Am I barking up the wrong tree
hey doc, what’s the matter with me
no little lady sit at home hell no
just hoot’en Annie on the running
on the spot at square one
with a zest for evolution
no not neurotic only a human
late bloom’in hopeful
with a soft skin to boot
growing pains
© Anne Beverly Brown ~ 1984