The thrumming thrumming thrumming
can seem so very near
as fingers strumming strumming
make magic that I hear.
Your fine guitar - passionate -
What longing it can bring!
As you stroke the strings of it,
my heart is quivering!
I wait for that resplendence -
melodious and low -
I know will soon commence.
Your sweet words soon will flow.
Your voice which hums, lilts and croons
a plethora of love tunes,
keeps on bewitching me.
I can’t know just who you are,
but I can feel your glow
as your music with guitar
spills from my radio.
For the Sounds Poetry Contest of Frank H.
and now for Nathan's Magic Contest