The long solid neck, <br />With flowing, refinded strings. <br />A base of cherry; finished wood. <br />Defined in figure, exquisite; <br />Among other things. <br />Shaped with a curve, <br />Set down in my lap. <br />I picked up my guitar, <br />And made my fingers tap. <br />A symphony from, <br />Those melodic strings. <br />Part of my hearts amour. <br />My fingers graze along, <br />This coppery and bronze decor. <br />A roughness they slide. <br />Along the ends; <br />Roughness on my fingertips. <br />A sliding; an arry of refreshing sounds. <br />One that echos into the bottem, <br />And emerges to astound. <br />My arm embraces the frame work, <br />A base of refined finished wood. <br />Tuned to a sound, <br />Like a guitar should. <br />My fingers cradle those melodic stings. <br />The light strum of my hand, <br />Makes music; <br />The guitar sings. <br />From the mouth of a speaker. <br />Out comes a tune. <br />With a cadence strum. <br />Fingers pressed down, <br />Out the music comes. <br />A symphony from, <br />This rhythmic harmony. <br />A tone in my soul. <br />A note that's always been apart of me. <br />A feeling I once knew. <br />I recall, a sound in the distance. <br />A beauty that plays so smooth. <br />Shaped with a curve, <br />Set down in my lap; <br />I picked up my guitar. <br />It slowly starts to come back. <br />That feeling, I'll never forget. <br />I recall, a sound not so far. <br />I recall, the feeling that day; <br />The day I picked up my beloved guitar.<br /><br />Jessie Jett<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-beloved-guitar/
