I am now only posting poetry at wordpress.com

The Guitar

 

I see she’s sitting there.

She’s softly strumming her guitar.

Who needs applause?

I thought I’d lend a hand.

 

And still she's sitting there

And sudden seems her stroke does find its pause.

Says she she’s got it down.

And she don’t need a man.

 

I see the heaven’s break . . .

 

Dance on the dainties of her wrist

All the rains and thunder

Kneel themselves to pray.

 

She plays that crystal lake;

I’d swear her fretting rings of violins

And they tear sunder from the fingerboard

And back.

 

And still she sits . . .

 

Right there,

Beneath the shadow of a kiss;

Beneath the brimming of the music

In the dawn.

 

I saw her sitting there

And all the world’s a silent moan.

She lit one final chord.

The music's gone.