Musician. Poem by Bernadette O Reilly

Musician.



There is something timeless
about the creak of the chair.
As he rests his bottom there.
Strums his guitar.
Dressed in black.

Monday, January 28, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: guitar
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Bernadette O Reilly

Bernadette O Reilly

14th January 1959
Close
Error Success