Misty mornings, soft and gray,

Piano whispers, dawn’s ballet.

Your fingers dance on ivory keys,

A melancholy autumn breeze.

Through Venetian streets of rain and stone,

This melody, my own alone.

Each note a tear that never falls,

A memory within these walls.

Fade to silence, mist remains,

Beauty lingers, sweet as pain.

Sunny mornings, golden hush,

light spills like honey on the quiet floor;

your name, a soft breeze through the open door,

warms every leaf, every sleeping brush.

Time forgets to move, skies stay in bloom,

pianos of sunlight play our secret tune;

in this bright forever, worries melt to air,

heartbeats echo softly, floating everywhere.