Publisert av: For the Little Prince - Per | juni 21, 2014

Violin in the Woods By Sandy Lynn Copyright June 10, 2014

She ambles down a stony path
Alone, but calm and quite content

He is perched upon a branch
Curious, mischievous, perhaps, heaven-sent

She watches, listens, ponders the message in his beak
He wonders what’s missing, the forest treasure she seeks

She stops to rest, she unpacks her bag
Violin and bow are in position

He listens, pauses, tilts his head
As dew on [towering] oak leaves glisten

She stops and starts, determined to shine
He admires her ambition, she’s strong

He places his wings close to his ears
Beginner proudly plays a happy little song

Gentle hands pull the bow
Low, firm strokes he demands

Flapping wings in celebration
Finally, she complies, she understands

Taking a break, violin at rest her fingers never stop playing
Dances, tripping over knuckles, early progress displaying

He wonders if she holds his secrets close to her chest
She holds them tightly, promises, at work and when at rest

She walks closer to admire this intriguing discovery
Wings pulled closely to his heart, he whispers, «Be gentle with me.»

Many a greedy, jealous traveler, want to hover over, controlling
She understands, sets free, comforts, consoling

The wings flap freely, sometimes in rapid succession
He listens intently to each of her confessions

Fly free, my friend, explore every mountain, valleys, too
For journey satisfies your yearnings, your destiny, it’s true

She wants everything, but is perfectly content ‘to be’
His wings set free to explore, to find, life’s answers, from summit to sea




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