Yet another attempt at poetry

[johndelmore at suddenlink.net]

Gee, are we a bunch of hams, or what??

Submitted with trepidation, my alternate ending:

But the party was raided, the kids were all lit,
So the 5-foot-3 grand was wheeled in to sit
In an unused corner,
In an unused room,
Now cooler, now warmer,
Alone in the gloom.

Grand-daughter took it, when Grandmother passed,
Couldn't remember exactly when it was tuned last.
But she called up a tech,
That she found in the book,
And she asked him direct:
"Would you come take a look?"

He checked it and said "It ain't worth the trouble:
To fix it up right, you'd pay at least double
What it'd fetch at resale,
And, perhaps, even more.
Sad, as the old gal
Has seen boom-times, depression and war."

"Well, times are good now, and my memories are sweet,
So let's go ahead with a thorough, complete
Restoration and give
My old faithful friend
One more chance to live,
To sing once again."

So he took it away, for weeks, to his shop.
Shimmed up the soundboard, replaced the pinblock.
"Those bridges are shot,
But I've got a plan:
Rescaling might help,
Call Ron Nossaman!!"

The keys went to Blackstone, new hammers came in,
The centers were pushed out, rebushed and repinned.
The new finish glows
With fire from within,
And it's time she goes
Back home again.

She was never a grand lady, restoration was daft,
But now children doze as lullabys waft
Gently up the stairs
Through the house in the dark
>From Granny's still treasured
Old Story and Clark.