A Minuet of Mozart's by Sara Teasdale
Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And glimmered gold against the gloom.
I watched the music turn to light,
But at the pausing of the bow,
The web was broken and the glow
Was drowned within the wave of night.
A bit meta here: art about art. Read this one aloud and delight in it.
"Mommy, hear the rhythm? It's like music! Oh--It's like Mozart!"
Yes, yes it is.