I was really honoured when a lady who came to one of my concerts wrote a beautiful poem afterwards! Here is the poem, it's called 'The Dance':

She sat so quietly at that great machine,

A small calm figure then raised her arms

Placing her hands upon the mass of strings;

Then softly the air was filled with notes,

A wondrous breeze then filled the air.

I closed my eyes and felt the music

Flow in waves about the room;

My mind saw pictures of a crowd of girls

Dressed in pure white gowns,

No shoes were needed in the glorious hills

As they danced upon the soft green grass

Leaping and weaving about the place

Their arms outstretched,

A ballet of such unadulterated bliss

As they danced about the fields

Their free flowing hair gleaming in the glorious sun

Like a mass of white birds flying high.

Then slowly the music began to fade

And reluctantly I returned to earth

As tears slowly dried upon my face.

About the room a quiet hush remained behind,

Just that small calm creature at her harp,

Her hands no londer weaving that dance of joy –

Just quietly the fingers resting there

No longer plucking at the strings

But leaving us in a world of bliss.

This truly was a dance of joy.

by Maureen Scorer