Mahogany-brown, heaven-sent,
My love
A sublime work of art
Perfect, so perfect.
Cloaked in black, like the night
My love, mahogany-brown
Every curve fitting in mine
The piece which completes my puzzle.
We don’t need violins and pianos,
My love, mahogany-brown
Symphonies play in our embraces,
And in the brushes of our fingertips.
Hollow inside but full, so full,
My love’s mahogany-brown
Richness flows into my soul,
Cathartic, lifting me from the world.
And even when my fingers are callused,
My love’s mahogany-brown
Smoothness will never roughen
Because immense purity is untouchable.
The neck’s slight tilt, the ivory marks,
My love’s mahogany-brown
Fretboard, oft caressed,
The six strings which lovingly
Callused these fingers
And brought out the melodies hiding
Inside
Both muse and music,
My love, mahogany-brown.
Got you at the end, didn’t I?
I’d like to interrupt me falling in love with my guitar to extend this little challenge to all of you- write a classic love poem with a twist at the end. It could be morbid, it could be funny, it could be melancholic, it could be none of the above- do as you please, but make sure it’s unexpected.
This is not a competition; just an activity for you to try out if you want. And if you try it out, do share your poems with me in the comments- I’d love to read what you came up with.
sorry for being a thickhead but what was the twist? was it your love being a guitar (as opposed to a dark skinned person)? Because from the first line i knew that. [smug-face] [sunglasses emoji]
LikeLiked by 1 person
You rock, Sherlock
LikeLike
Yes, definitely a good one.
I liked the line: “Because immense purity is untouchable” the most.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks! Glad it resonated with you (pun intended).
LikeLiked by 1 person