The Fiddler and the Frog, a Sonnet
After years of practice and devotion,
And playing scales until his fingers bled,
Trying musically to touch emotion,
To subtly influence both heart and head,
The Fiddler can take pride in his art form,
The music years and tears in the making,
Thoughts of future glory keeps his heart warm
While his empty belly throbs with aching.
Meanwhile, there’s a frog down by the river
Who’s singing out his song without a care.
The listening soul cannot help but shiver,
The beauty of his song much like a prayer.
The better song? Well, critics might debate…
I love them both and so I shall not rate…
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