The Guitarist

The Guitarist

Blue eyes transfixed on the page

Head bowed with pen in hand

Lyrics flowing on paper

You remain treasured memory

Fingers calloused by practice

Said once love the guitar

As you would your beloved

Play it until your fingers bleed

Pain will be worth it

In the end…

Strings resonate with our story

Journey from earth to heaven

Bitter, sweet and salty it tastes.

And of love’s passion play

Composing in wee hours of the morning.

You see dawn’s holy light.

Separated by time and distance.

Yet close as my morning coffee,

I smile and remember you.

Your music and you,

Hold a sacred heart space.

(c) 2012 Amanda Wilson

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