Today the prompt is a poem about 'play'.
The guitarist
A deep-voiced thundering, making the ground shake
And echoing in the very depths of your being.
And making you wonder.
A wall of impenetrable complexity, electric and wired
Encompassing you and spinning you round and round.
And making you nervous.
A soft waterfall, a streamlet flowing and bubbling
Down through ferns and trees, soothing you.
And making you breathe.
A solitary curlew, calling plaintively and ceaselessly
In the grey-blue-white heavens, and soaring.
And making you cry.
All of these and more,
The guitarist.
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