Cherished Stradivarius Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Violin playing within intellect, softly, gently and reflect-
ively in tune with the very rhythms of my mind, remembering
the feel of a bow held in my hand.

Sliding it across tender strings attached to my heart, fin-
gers finding exact positions so music being played would
sound harmonious and beautiful to this poetical mind.

Creating as I played, poetry formed innately and in synch
with rhythms and tones, becoming my voice through measures
of time, as I was much too shy to express myself vocally.

Satisfied totally that this precious and cherished stradi-
varius held in my loving hands, would do what I wasn't able
to do at this young and impressionable age.