Sonnet For a Guitar Player

I can hear the crowd clapping as you strum, transfixed you open another portal; With each note becoming more overcome easily you take a piece of their soul; Every single person captivated; Without uttering one melodic sound all five senses are left elevated, eliminating the rest king uncrowned; Improvisation colors every chord held them in the palm of a jam session; Swallowing every long extended sword, transferred them to a solid progression; Taking in pain and exhaling grandeur, the tortured soul of a guitar player.