Violin

Untouched by the caress of a bow, The instrument lies mute, voiceless A song slumbers on the strings, will the player show? An adept touch is what is sought Until then, silence is the only tune. Who will take it over that lilting bridge, Over deep waters in rhythmic flow The silence must be broken... Then, as she approaches, the strings tremble, Her caress is what it longed for Bow meets strings, and a concerto begins A melody drifts across the water, The long awaited caress is magical 4-19-2023 Writing Challenge - 'V' Words Poetry Contest Sponsor: Constance La France