At first I hesitate.
To learn is it too late?
Your strings are so proud,
Yet I fear to be loud.
Have I waited way too long?
Your neck is so strong.
I touch your skin with my finger,
Brush the dust or let it linger?
I hold the precious pick in my hand,
Carefully lift you off your stand.
So perfectly you fit into my arm,
I promise Not to bring harm.
My right hand knows just where to go,
The chords my fingers subconsciously know.
The first strum, your beauty sounds.
My admiration, in my heart it pounds.
I close my eyes to hear you all,
There is nothing besides your call.
The world could be lit on fire,
But my love for you could never tire.
The blissful melody of your strings,
Joy in life you will forever bring.
Your voice is pure,
You are my cure.
Through all the turmoil I go through,
Dear Guitar, I will always love you.