Mr Artist
I arrange the strings
Of my favourite instrument
The head, For perfect music
Of art and evolution
I play the flute
with perfect synchronization
Of togetherness with art
Of wilderness with evolution
I am a pianist now
Drawn deeper into the music
with each stroke of touch
Of pain and love
My music her poetry
she reads me
from top to bottom
I draw her closer.
She whispers,"Mr. Artist,
You play the hormones
better than
your instrument".
Copyright © Haraprasad Chatterjee | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment