Ragtime haunts the ivory bone

as the marrow shares the soul of the tune

 It plays

Tickled and fickled are the

acoutements which  give color to the pallet

always in step below pressing on for

 rhythm’s sake

Play they do as keys

 to open a door or storage room

finding the right one was a feat

 even without blinders on

And a rag would pass in time

 across one’s  nape

for the mistake would be hanging the melody

 unable to mend spirit

Only a true medium could awaken those senses

Play do they as the keys

 Minus their flesh you see the mark they make

 With every breath the three-step makes

The ivory bone moans

 in tones as if ringing up phones

Inviting those asleep

 to a party with a good time to keep