Today sits on my lap,
its wood against my chest.
its wood against my chest.
The year is all strummed out,
time to replace these dull guitar strings.
time to replace these dull guitar strings.
The melody remains,
sweet, blue and a kiss of air
sweet, blue and a kiss of air
but the instrument is tarnished,
its steel rusted
its steel rusted
and I hear such longing
in December's chords.
in December's chords.
John Grey is an Australian poet, United States resident. Recently published in Examined Life, Studio One and Colombia Review with work upcoming in Leading Edge, Poetry East and Midwest Quarterly.
Dear John,
ReplyDeleteAs long as you still can hear the music, you know there is a possibility to get a vivid melody. Thanks for your contribution.
Best wishes,
Inge
ah, yes, so many will feel exactly as you do! Very well expressed
ReplyDeleteReally love that last line, John. Nice write. Continued blessings!
ReplyDelete-MJ
(www.creativeinspirationspp.blogspot.com)
Dear John,
ReplyDeleteIt is so good to see you already have some lovely thoughts on your poem. Welcome to Whispers! I hope you are enjoying your time spent here.
Blessings,
Karen
Very good John, describes kind of like "the old violin" Good writing
ReplyDeleteKnight Writer