The Hands That Guitar
Tiny droplets rain on me on the blooming fields,
As I merrily danced with the kissing tulips;
The graceful rays of the rainbow shield,
These small fingers that yield loving grips;
I felt one with this worldly land,
No other's touch can move me;
The sound of guitar strings heard grand,
Swam into this field of unbroken dreams;
I slept a second through the hustling of the serenading wind,
The hurly burly of the bustled city unfelt;
I'm loved with the world and one with him,
No other plucks the guitar, it can't be stealth;
We'd make a nostalgic music along these steps,
Side by side, we held hands;
Not even the butterflies or little specks,
Made seeming spectra for what him and I have;
The sun shines at six minutes to three,
As we went to the spacious front porch;
His songs still set us free,
As he strums towards our main door-
The hands that guitar.
About this poem
This poem is about two lovers enjoying the countryside with music as they head to their home.
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Written on August 01, 2021
Submitted by Pink_Crystal on July 31, 2021
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 48 sec read
- 3 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | XXAX BCBX XAXX XXXX CXCXX |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 837 |
Words | 158 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 5 |
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"The Hands That Guitar" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/106156/the-hands-that-guitar>.
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