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Ode to my Guitar
February 25, 2009
My palm gently caresses
Your long smooth neck
Wood encloses your body
Like skin
With the bending of every wire
I soar higher and higher
Your voice, it never tires
Rich tones from your gut
Come pouring out
Steaming
Warmed by my gentle touch
The Impatient, needy child
Requiring daily affection
Working hand in hand
With my soul
It resonates
Between love and hate
As my fingers predetermine
Each quarter note of fate
Your stories told in measures
Underneath each verse
Lies a hidden treasure
My fingers found their own
Guilty pleasure
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