Gypsy Violin

A Poem By Raine // 1/13/2006

The bow is raised,
The fingers poised.
As the first strains of the guitar soar,
The violin strings quiver
As the bow dances madly across the strings.

The night is filled with the sound of
A Gypsy Violin.

The sound grows, faster, louder,
Fingers flying, dancing, leaping.
The music fades leaving only a memory
Until the last chord sounds,
A breathtaking moment.

Comments

Ahh!!! This is so perfect.

Ahh!!! This is so perfect. Perfect rhythm, perfect wording, perfect feel. I am a fiddler, so I can definitely relate. When playing my favorite fast bluegrass songs it feels JUST LIKE THAT!!! Very well done.
God bless you!

Damaris Ann | Thu, 11/13/2014

I don’t thrive off of chaos: chaos thrives off of me.

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