I played my fiddle today.
I wished I could have played all day,
But my arms got tired
And I had to put it away.
I played my fiddle today.
While a soft breeze blew
And the yellow grass turned green.
There was a moment or two
When the bow touched the string
That I knew
Music is in everything.
I played my fiddle today.
Or maybe it played for me.
Sometimes it is hard to see
Where the music begins
And my spirit ends.
I played my fiddle today.
Some nice Irish tunes.
I still faulter and fumble
And make mistakes
But there are moments
When the magic takes
I hope someday
I can play for a room,
and if I do
They will feel it too.
APRIL 25 -- FOR UNPUBLISHED WRITERS EVERYWHERE
4 hours ago
S. M. I really enjoyed this poem. You touched on a few things I really enjoy. The Fiddle/Violin and Music itself.
ReplyDelete"There was a moment or two
When the bow touched the string
That I knew
Music is in everything."
I couldn't agree more and poetry can be music for those who cant play. I envy the talent.
"I played my fiddle today.
I wished I could have played all day,
But my arms got tired
And I had to put it away."
This I like for different reasons. Its a bummer when you are doing something you love and have to stop for other reasons out of your control. your description is wonderful!!If only you could get lost in it forever huh?