Gabriella Franco Poems
The Touch Of The Master's Hand
’Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bidden, good folk? ” he cried,
“Who’ll start the bidding for me?
“A dollar—a dollar—then two, only two—
“Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?
“Going for three”—but no—
From the room far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel ...
The Prose Of Life
Those who can see beauty in everything
are they who will be beautiful
Those who can see hope in everything
are the ones who will be hopeful
Those who can see humor in everything
Are the ones who will laugh