Talent and Skill
The mellow chords of a cello draw tears:
as its bow vibrates a combo of strings.
And when that sound found its way to my ears:
it tore my heart apart and clipped my wings.
The violin, akin to the fiddle,
expresses cheers and fears within its pitch.
And, I find my mind teased by a riddle
granted an hour of power to bewitch.
French horns, like brass thorns, both piercing and sharp,
float above each note, and I'm left reeling.
And the sweet bleat of a lingering harp
haunts and taunts with a heavenly feeling.
Music, on the whole, leaves my soul in awe;
every sound, bound to the conductor's will.
Perfect, and yet imperfect, like scrimshaw,
a way to convey both talent and skill.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment