Below is the poem entitled The Violin which was written by poet
Zerbst. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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The sun was shining brightly
Yet it was only pleasantly warm
It shone through the windows
Chasing the gloom from the stone manse.
I left the door open as I fully entered the room 5
To let the soft breeze enter
I looked about me
The room I stood in was large
Thick rugs of varied colours graced the wood floor
Little specks of dust floated by the window 10
Set ablaze by the golden light.
All was still and silent
The gleam of silver caught my eye
I turned my head to the window
On a blue cushion rested a violin with silver strings 15
I walked slowly toward it
This is what I had been looking for!
The polished wood gleamed with brilliance
Highlighting the gold and red of the grain
I slid my finger across the smooth top 20
Leaving a print that marred its perfection
I raised it to my shoulder
Sliding the bow across the strings
The warm, rich tones filled the room
Nearly alive in their power to speak 25
Rising or falling at my every whim.
It felt as if it were made for me
And had been eagerly awaiting my appearance.
There came the faint sound of a young woman singing
I regretfully set the violin down 30
And turned to the door
The voice grew steadily louder
Then it ceased.
She entered and smiled at me
"You played the violin." 35
"How did you konw?"
"Because I am free. I was bound by a curse, you know."
I did not, but nodded anyway
"Go ahead-- take it. It has been waiting for you."
My breath caught. Did she really mean it? 40
She whispered softly, "Go; and my peace go with you.
It has brought naught but ill to me."