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Keiya Tasire Oct 2019
See, smell, hold it, feel it,
Strum it, remember.
I see you  siting on the couch in the family room.
We are playing and signing together.

These are some of my happiest memories of you
This guitar, with it's four strings
With a rattling inside
Turning it from front to back
Back to front again and again
This 1938 Martin Tenor Guitar
My father held and played for hours
Weddings, family gatherings, holidays
And just because it was a Monday.
A family home for the evening - singing.
I was always the last one to leave.
"Play me another song, dad. Please!"

Rattling rattle, what's inside?
Turning, shaking
Reaching for the sound
Deep inside with my fingers
There it is! Got it!
What is it?

Look at this!
It's my dad's guitar pick!
A picture of a palm tree and  "Fender Heavy"
Stamped into an old plastic pick
Tucked into this Tenor Guitar for safe keeping.

Tears swelling to overflowing
Spilling from my eyes
I hear him picking, singing
It is so soothing.

To  His little girl's delight
Turning the guitar face side up
placing my left hand on the neck
Feeling, ******* the cords he taught me
Going through each one of them
One by one.
I loved this time with my father.
There are times I really miss him. He passed in 2003. These memories keep him strong within the love of my heart.

— The End —