Some people do not seem to understand it when a musician talks about 'color' in a piece of music... this poem is my thoughts on the subject.
Touching strings of quivering silver,
In a sure and steady hand,
The violin bow draws a stroke
Picturesque and grand.
Lifting notes right off the page
Sending them floating in the air
Painting in glowing colors-
Black and white no longer there.
Working with care to capture
Glowing thoughts that open like flowers
So beautifully new, yet wordless -
Like the fresh, early wee hours.
Every detail thoughtfully distinguished
The heart laid open and bare;
Every movement filled with passion-
Every breath a prayer.
Look! Observe with your eyes!
Listen! To what every ear can tell:
An accomplished violinist
Is not only a musician, but an artist as well.
© CFW 2012
More entries: December 2012
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