Your Guitar
Your Guitar gently weeps
It speaks to me of honeyed halcyon days by the shore
Of how the water cries
And the wind caresses her throbbing breast.
Your guitar speaks to me of distant days when we lay in the haze of sun tinged rocksÂ
Dangling our toes in icy waters
Your guitar calls out to the myriad starry beings above us
And invites them to dance through the heavens
Serpents of Silver winding their way to the Gods
She talks to me of Seville in SeptemberÂ
Morocco in DecemberÂ
And Andalucia in Spring
Her many notes recounting long lost days.
Oh sweet Beloved Music
Which tumbles through the ether creating worlds
How blessed am I to know youÂ
You caress my mind
Your 6 strings create magic
Beauty unsurpassed
You shower me with never ending melodiesÂ
Oh sweet box of Rosewood
How much I love thee
For thou createst worlds
Which set me free. Â
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Comments
Oh, DD, I have only just found this masterpiece. I absolutely love this. I know many guitarists and you have encapsulated their love for their favourite rosewood boxes perfectly. Some also like steel....a good Dobro..
I am now going to look for old friends on youtube and listen to what love of a guitar can do.
I'd love to hear you play DD.
I hope you've found some woods.
Nigel
Dearest Nigel, many thanks for your kind words. Music really is the one thing that soothes the tortured brow. I'm still in my lighthouse by the sea. Visit woods for green respite and to reconnect with nature though. I hope all is well with you and you found some entrancing music to listen to. DD x
Damn i love the feeling of playing a guitar you captured that emotion really great .loved it
Hi EdwardÂ
Thanks so much for your feedback. Glad you enjoyed it. DD x