Frances May

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

Violin - Poem by Frances May

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

  • (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?

    (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (5/4/2009 6:02:00 AM)

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

Read all 2 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, May 4, 2009

Poem Edited: Monday, May 4, 2009

[Report Error]