With swift fingers,
You pluck the strings,
Of your upright bass.
Grab you bow,
Bigger then all the rest,
you play a string,
And everyone listens,
To the deep sounds pouring from your instrument,
shakeing through the floor.
As you play a glissando,
on your upright bass,
you play a glissando.
On my heart,
From happy high to sorry low,
You make my heart sing.
YOU ARE READING
Play The Music
PoetryThis is a mixture of poems about a few of my friends who play instruments and our relationship. So I hope you like it!
