I once again asked my husband for a subject, any, to write about. His first response was “squid.”
Try again, I smirked.
“Okay,” he said, “electric guitar.”
Here is what my imagination and a half hour of time did with that suggestion!
Photo by Vishal Das on Unsplash
The Magic Guitar
My mood was dusk
And the sky was too
The gray of the sidewalk
The clicks of my shoes
It all sounded lonely
As I walked past closed shops
When a light up ahead
Caused me to stop
From a store front window
Came a golden glare
I approached with wonder
To see what was there
The rays of light glimmered
Like a shimmering star
And bathed in the glitter
Was an electric guitar
It was red and white
And it stood on a stand
I wanted that instrument
Here in my hand
There was magic around it
In the neck and the strings
That guitar was meant
To bellow and sing
My playing was simple
Nothing off the charts
But the guitar wanted ME
I knew it in my heart
A sign said “Closed”
But I knocked on the door
I’m rarely that bold
Haven’t done that before
An old man peeked out
He looked in my eyes
He glanced in the window
And to my surprise
He carefully lifted
The guitar from its place
He opened the door
With a grin on his face
“I think this is yours,”
Is all that he said.
He handed it to me
And nodded his head
Then he locked up the door
And the man disappeared
I hugged that guitar
And shed a warm tear
As I walked the way home
No longer afraid
With my magic guitar
That longed to be played
And I knew in my hands
That glorious wood
Would sing to the people
Who would feel understood
And I wouldn’t be lonely
Forever from this day
As long as there is love
In the notes that I play.