Short Rosin Poems

There’s nothing quite like
The smell of a cast iron 
Wood fired  cook stove
On a chill Kentucky morning
Brewed coffee, platter of eggs
Pork chops and bacon
Hint of wood smoke scent
And ashes…Rosin and Pine
And a wee lad to savor these
…Future memories  of mine…

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Fiddle player
Dance and dance
Kick up your heals
With ants in your pants

Or bees that sting
While tapping your toes
And dancing your jig
As you get up and go

Play us a melody
Or play us a tune
Bring us some sunshine
And we’ll do-si-do round mid-moon

Fiddle player
Play and play
Rosin your bow
As again and again you spitfire a phrase

From magic upon those strings
And into the night
The music will ring
Fiddle player
Play and play and play...

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It sings
It cries
It yells.
It loves bow.
Bow loves it. 
I guess they have no choice.
They come as one.
One cannot function without the other.
It gets jealous when Bow is with Rosin.
Rosin laughs.
It yells
It cries
It sings for Bow to come back home.
Back to the case where the famous duo belong.
Though it has trust issues,
Violin could not live without Bow.
Bow could not live without Rosin.
The trio make up a team.
Together, they make beautiful music....

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