H) Mozart

Mozart

At three years old
his father made him practice
six hours daily
until a pathway in his brain
was carved
that made him fit
to play for kings

he never thought
of listeners
until a cheque arrived
then pictured us
banqueting on
notes inked
hunched at this keyboard
sans birds flowers and stars

never saw the sun
a fortnight
trapped in this cell
a prisoner of
paper bars
now we feast on
his lost childhood
his absent moonlight
his missing stars

his inevitable early dark
pours light on us
like that other man of thirty
who gave himself
so we might hear
and see
and sing praise be