*Flurries of call and response , electric guitar notes
travel over these Oak floors , escaping through an open window
bound for a star , my grandson could quite possibly receive
the songs coda from an extraterrestrial musician yet unknown
I pray for alien language to be music , I've so much to tell ,
, so much hurt to describe , so much passion and understanding
stored in my souls living well
If we could communicate love through a fretboard vocabulary
I would wail*
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 10:22 PM UTC
*Flurries of call and response , electric guitar notes
travel over these Oak floors , escaping through an open window
bound for a star , my grandson could quite possibly receive
the songs coda from an extraterrestrial musician yet unknown
I pray for alien language to be music , I've so much to tell ,
, so much hurt to describe , so much passion and understanding
stored in my souls living well
If we could communicate love through a fretboard vocabulary
I would wail*
Copyright May 1 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
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