Violin plays to passing ears,
Not one stops to meet what it hears,
The melody floats through waterfall skies,
Drops bombard the pavement in,
Front and round musician’s eyes.
But no joy is lost from fiddler’s song,
The notes sing gracefully and long,
They weave through streets and market stalls,
Searching for an ear that knows,
That they are Worthy of great kingly halls.
Drops crash thicker, faster, wetter,
Fiddler plays both harder, better,
No flooding rain or human disinterest,
Will cause hardy violin or graceful notes,
Or great fiddler to rest.
Nice lyrical quality to this. Clearly the fiddler inspiring you is more adept and hardy than me!
thank you! she certainly was a fantastic musician.
I admire your work as it has great inpiration and thought. I hopeto read more of your poerty as you continue to post.
thank you so much, i hope you will enjoy any posts i make in the future.
I admire your work as it has great inpiration and thought. I hopeto read more of your poerty as you continue to post.
thank you so much, i hope you will enjoy any posts i make in the future.