They don't grow here at all.
Lavender perfumed air
Heavenly scented the air everywhere.
Even closed doors did not
Keep that luscious scent out.
When I was little I took
Piano lessons from a man very stout.
His name was Mr. Leonard Blair.
Walking to my house
He'd play imaginary piano
With his fingers in the air!
Mother fired Mr. Leonard Blair
Thinking him quite creepy.
At the piano his eyes would close..
I think he was very sleepy.
Even though he fell asleep
His genius expertise
Certainly was outstanding.
He'd snore himself awake then sneeze.
A teacher snoring by my side
Puzzled me almost to vexia
Because you see I really had
A bad case of dyslexia.
I played strange upside down sounds
To me all crazy sounding notes.
All around would hold their ears.
Slamming windows were their votes.
Those lessons did me well I think.
Enjoy playing to this day.
Only play now for myself you see.
Play saying, "NO, DO IT THE OTHER WAY!"
When I do play my piano,
I miss the aroma of Lilacs in the air.
When in Chicago it wafted into my room.
Inhaling I'd close my eyes, and so did Mr. Blair.
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