Cheek poised on the violin
Rosin on the bow,
She takes her music places
Where others cannot go.
In the caves of icicles
Or in the desert heat
Playing with a Pentatonics
The 'Radioactive' beat.
Her hands meld with her violin
Music pumps from her heart.
Her instrument becomes a part of her
She bleeds for her art!
She can make a sound
Like a soughing sob,
Or make a pinnacle of joy
That is heard by God.
But no matter what art inspired her
She would rise to fame
That's just her very nature...
... Lindsey Sterling is her name.
This poem is for Poetic T.
She is one of our faves!