Ebony

Ode to Ebony

In ancient woods where shadows play,
Ebony stands in sable array,
Its trunk a night‑wrought column, tall,
Drinking the moon’s soft, silvery call.

The grain runs deep like midnight streams,
Polished to shine in subdued gleams,
A velvet darkness, smooth and sleek,
Whispering secrets that fungi speak.

From craftsman’s bench to pianist’s key,
It sings a tone both stark and free,
Each note a ebony‑kissed refrain,
Resounding through both joy and pain.

So honour this timber, black as night,
A token of depth, of sober light—
In ebony’s hold the world finds rest,
A dark jewel nature has blessed.