Tainted Guitar

You made a joke about me writing about a poem about your out of tune guitar, but I thought it would work, so here you go

A little twang in my ear,

Not morphing into melody,

Your hands unable to shape,

The turmoil of your guitar,

 

Loosened for the journey,

Taken into consideration,

Heat waves and drops,

But forgetting bringing it back,

 

Bringing it back to the highest form,

Where it moulds to your skill,

Singing us a tune in sweet,

Relaxing the stress’ of life,

 

Play for me again a song,

Like you did so long ago,

Let your voice drift slowly soft,

Breathing with the air of music,

 

Something isn’t quite right here,

Change the tune into perfect,

It’s not in tune with what we know,

It must work, in order to love,

 

Little movements change the song,

The tune morphing, defying,

Swift ears catch the defiance,

Moulding into that sweet heaven,

 

Play again that sweet song of life,

Whisper the words into range,

Melody sweet, and undefined,

Bringing back, the highest form.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I loved this poem.'
"Play again that sweet song of life,
Whisper the words into range,
Melody sweet, and undefined,
Bringing back, the highest form."
The above lines. perfection. Thank you dear friend for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Chris]

Seems "noise" is the music of the beholder? Muzak doesn't depend on age - just choice.