Violin

She cried for all the broken hearts, Painted everlasting winters Floral patterns etched in ice; A frozen tear to Soften up the bastard bones. Bow made love to needy string In cooing fling - wanton whispers Fondled under pianissimos, Caressing callous hearts. Melodrama swayed in satin sound Yet the player wasn't there, Only creamy song - soothing, yearning, Teasing bitter minds. I sensed her persevering loneliness For beauty of an evening, Romance of a tune - laughing, Sobbing at the fire. Then a climax Writhing passion cutting deep Wounding macho flesh; And all in a work of musical art: Ephemeral stories, yarned of music Honed impossibly through her tones.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2010