My Violin.

Sound delicately whistles through my ear,
Each and every note eloquently clear.
Throughout the break of day I see,
For true love has become of thee.

A,B,C,D each notion clearer than a summer's sky,
Notes departing with the affection of a true lover's eye.
Sensitive fingers strum the strings so softly,
Pronunciation is the key, each tone played so beautifully.

To watch it played is a thought deeply kept,
For stolen away becomes sore, wounded and wept.
A true love's fate, nothing like the sun,
Sound echoes like a blood filled gun.

No music has a more pleasing sound,
As sweet as a cherry fallen to the ground.
The truest sound, the sharpest note,
Another day passes with genuine hope.

The passion of love,
The oxymoron of a tainted white dove.
Music soothes my dreary soul,
It is the one time in my life I really feel whole.

By the highest heaven my love is rare,
It is only the best that dare.

It is my heart,
It is my soul,
It is my life,

It is My Violin.