deepundergroundpoetry.com

front porch pickin'

my guitar
will not resist
when fingers
kiss
her long
sweet
neck

she
moans
or sighs
at gentle
licks
on silver strings
first slow

then quick

gently
crooning
these sad tunes
of broken
hearts
'neath lovers'
moon

ol' time
twang
sounds
like home
this picker's
zoned
he's here

but
gone
javalini
Author's Note
A love poem to my guitar. The poor thing married below her station, but we get along well. This was written for the Only Fifty (Unique) Words comp. I keep finding duplicate words. "A's' and 'ands'...
A love poem to my guitar. The poor thing married below her station, but we get along well. This was written for the Only Fifty (Unique) Words comp. I keep finding duplicate words. "A's' and 'ands' and 'this'...there is probably one still setting right there in front of my face. If I find it, I'll edit some more.
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