Frances May

Rookie (1991 / Wales, the land of sheep and strange accents)

Violin - Poem by Frances May

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Bowing wide
fast and free,
horse hairs
sweeping over nylon string,
and hear the notes
an underwater song,
the sound of raindrops.
Wavering beauty.
a hunter's cry -
one minute,
a gentle whisper
the next.

Comments about Violin by Frances May

  • Rookie - 135 Points Sidi Mahtrow (5/4/2009 7:07:00 AM)

    Cat gut
    Stretched taunt
    Screeching like no other
    Cat could want.
    But atuned to make
    A sound that none would forsake
    As fingers pluck
    And bow does stroke
    Ever man and child can
    Love and understand
    The sounds of a violin.

    Do the still use cat gut?
    Did the ever?

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  • Rookie rago rago (5/4/2009 6:02:00 AM)

    fine and you splendidly presented in poetic voice.........thank you for your kind sharing. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 4, 2009

Poem Edited: Monday, May 4, 2009

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