Music can only graze the surface of understanding,
The purest love of passionate embrace.
The notes that thread on the musical string,
Of an antique violin that sings with grace.
He watches as I play my heart in everlasting passion,
His sharp eyes pierce my fragile soul and dig into my desperate heart.
I keep my eyes shut for fear of recognition and unwanted attention,
Passion so lively and musical feeling you can’t tell them apart.
As I gracefully end the note, I open my eyes and let in the light.
He walks over to me and looks into my eyes; all fear forgotten.
Seeing that our intentions are the same, we kiss with all our might.
The violin is set roughly on a nearby chair; forgotten.
Submitted: May 01, 2018
© Copyright 2023 mathilde hirth. All rights reserved.
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hullabaloo22
Nicely done. You capture the passion of the music, the way it can draw two people together. The violin, left lonely on the chair -- a great way to end the poem.
Wed, May 2nd, 2018 8:32pm