Many years ago she started to play and I would dance, her fingers and my feet faster than time, a time that would catch us over the years, as we slowed down and it sped up, as she would play and I would dance.

Along the way time brought many feet to share the floor with me, as she would play and I would dance. Feet that grew far too fast, that moved with more joy than even mine, as she would play and I would dance.

I would hear the music coming through the window panes, calling to me each day, catching me strolling up the path, as she would play and I would dance.

The music could push the darkest clouds away, just the thought of it would make me sway, it was her way, as she would play and I would dance.

And in the driving rain and darkest nights, with the house aglow with fairy lights, we would gather around and sing and dance. Children of children, parents of parents, neighbours and strangers, uncles and aunts, as she would play and I would dance.

Of all the pleasures that I remember, none will be greater than the moments we made together, the moments that she played.

And now even though we are slower, I will tap my feet and dance, as she sits slightly stooped and plays and plays.

And even when we are gone, the memories will live on, moments spent together, moments lived forever, moments when she would play and I would dance.