With long slender fingers he picks the strings,
The pluck of each strong chord almost unseen.
His deep vocals clamor sweet tones, and sings,
Furrowed and hard age lines wrinkle his mien
He sings of love when young and in the past,
When life he knew left him with hurt and pain.
He sings a new song of love that will last,
Then asks what love has stored for him to gain.
He finds a love and takes her hand in his
He shows off his guitar silver on black
Love consummated with a tepid kiss
But abruptly the present has come back
The guitar in his hand will always seem
To be the place where he enjoys his dream.