PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He plucks her strings to test her tone.
Gently draws his bow across her strings.
Listens he intently to the pitch of her moan.
Softly whispered in his ear she sings.

Upon her neck his tenderly placed hand
fingers attentively working to find her measure.
The music she sings carries him to distant lands
building sound upon sound toward imminent pleasure.

The music he plays, the intensity raises,
mounting sound upon sound with her in his grasp,
as along her strings his fingers he grazes
the beauty of her song makes Maestro gasp.

Plays he his fiddle, yet ever faster
as the music he plays floats off into space
for she is the instrument and he is the Master
closes he his eyes, content smile on his face.

More intensely he plays her
the resounding music he sees.
His playing a wild frenzy, this is sure,
He bites his lip in sweet release.

He slumps down, music exhausted at last.
A longing finger strokes her slender throat,
as he dreams of music future and past
that he and his own beloved wrote.

A smile softly curls at the corners of lips
as he admires her polish and graces.
Slides he his hand down neck to her hips,
ready to play again, the music of other places.