The Living Guitar Poem by Neera Lollbeeharry

You strap me across your shoulders broad,
And clasp your fingers over my fret board.
In frenzied passion you caress my neck.
With so much love my tuning you check.
In me, is stored your prolific repertoire,
As you attribute to me a mellow avatar.

To my own rhythm, your pace you accord,
And to me you sing and play a major chord.
Your songs, my sound, in harmony vibrate.
Together a symphony we manage to create.
No pick you need to play me in measure,
Your fingers suffice to draw out my pleasure.

As the tensions you release in my strings tight,
Your strumming strokes ease off my plight.
I resonate naturally to your crooning song,
But deep inside for even more tunes I long.
Your teeming performance I follow in motion,
And pour into it my own chorus of emotion.

As our musical river cascades into a torrent,
And my moans resound an intensity rampant,
We move in rhythm into those creative tremors,
And merge into each other like spiritual lovers.
I furnish your voice as you play my tune at par,
I become among your fingers, your living guitar.