~•~
Callused fingers press vibrating strings,
Drawing passion from a violin,
And with burnished wood snug to his cheek,
The violinist plays from his heart.
Subtle vibes saturate my being,
As crying strings elicit feelings,
An expounding on love's betrayal,
Music stirs the imagination.
His bow hangs like a lingering kiss,
Savoring the taste of ecstasy.
And then with tears trickling down his cheek,
He unleashes unbridled fervor.
Experiencing pangs of rapture,
Sound slips the bonds of reality,
And as each note penetrates my heart,
It ignites flames of fire and passion.
~•~
YOU ARE READING
Serenade✔
Poetry"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all. " ~Oscar Wilde __________________________________ ✔You stay under the carpet of my room, Dusting the corners of my soul✔ __________________________________...
