The sun’s soft golden glow cascades over the surrounding plants and myself.
The bark of the old oak I sat against possessed a gentle yellow ochre glow.
In my hands sat my closest friend, the both of us perfectly in tune.
I run my fingers over the rugged steel strings, veins coursing blood through the body and into my mind and heart below.
The chord progression becomes our conversation.
The chords creating a fluid modulation.
Every strum an interaction, solidifying our synchronization.
The lyrics to our songs are merely my guitar’s translation.
We both share the same ambition.
We share a unique position and magnetic attraction.
My imagination is expressed through them, creating a unique situation.
The strings prohibit any procrastination.
Music is a representation of relation.
Traveling with my instrument to one definite destination.
Often times leading to revelation.
I’ve realized it’s justification for sitting alone, I want to play and avoid confrontation.
Alone at peace, hidden from the noisy nation.
Just me and my instrument, in silence, being occasionally cut off by the beautiful asphyxiation, being drowned in the sound of music.
The intimacy between one and their instrument is one unparalleled.
The sleek chrome body shimmers, relaying the sun’s gentle glow.
The wooden neck polished and appearing more golden than it’s traditional rubicund hue.
I still need to replace one of the strings.
YOU ARE READING
A Summer Song (Poetry Collection #1)
PoetryWhat I consider to be my greatest poems. I only allow the best of my work to be added to this. I really do hope you enjoy my work, and any feedback to help me improve my craft is greatly appreciated.
