Major and minor harmonies crumble
Like disintegratable solutions
That dissolve to sweetness. Amiable
Feelings of fulfilment melt ambitions
And the curves of my guitar greet slim fingers.
I don't care for my poor technique or flaws,
Knowing the simple sound simply lingers
After slim fingers have strummed and struck chords.
This wooden thing, strummed summer instrument.
The fair dust of fairies the very notes
Releasing and ceasing the incessant
Torments that are elevated to float
Harmlessly above and about my ears.
That is release, that is peace beyond years.