The Player of Strings

An ode must be written to the player of strings Thanking them for the joy their playing brings Reminiscent to a puppet master they strike the strings Like a ventriloquist with seemingly voicelessness the object sings. Sometimes seated or even when they stand By pick, by bow or by hand Played as an acoustic or powered with juice in the form on an electric Like perfect circles both sit perfectly concentric A lute, a cello and guitar A harp, a bass, zither or sitar A double bass, banjo or mandolin A cigar box guitar or violin Treble, Lyon, Pistoy, Diapason and fret gut As different as a cashew and macadamia nut As long as it is played well and not abused It doesn’t matter how or what is used The impact of sound orders the audience to be silent In a forceful way which is strangely non-violent The sound created is so divine As delicious as a creamy cheese or well aged wine. If a picture tells a thousands words There must be infinite words present in your soulful chords When you arrive at that magical sound Body quivers and feet lift off the ground. Like a boat in the ocean calmly afloat There is a calming peace that arrives when you hit the perfect note Choosing between being blind or deaf is decision one wouldn’t want to make But if I was to only hear, for heaven’s sake Strike those strings and create those harmonious sounds And the visual images will come in leaps and bounds Play me an a, b, c, d, e, f or g in major or minor When beautifully played nothing could be finer A verse on its own can be said and cheery But without the strings it becomes tiresome and weary The body shakes when the sounds of the strings reach perfection In peculiar cases it has been known to aid downstairs in an uplifting direction With the perfect note the soldier stands to attention Here’s hoping it doesn’t occur at a men’s only convention Undoubtedly when you play The dark of night turns into the bright of day Like a perfect duck dive without a splash Or a burnt out fire with the remaining golden ash Whether you’re in your twenty’s or seventy five The magic moments keep you alive So thank you to the player of the strings For the absolute pleasure your playing brings And sheer delight when your instrument sings THANK YOU PLAYER OF STRINGS