Allegra's Guitar
Allegra strummed her guitar softly
Each chord gently rolls off her fingers
Sweet no-thingness blissed thy ears
La musica drifted lightly ever more
She hummed gingerly along with the tune
No words were spoken, as she played
Closing her eyes she felt the kiss
Such naturalness flowing inside
Endorphins swirling in the limelight
Surpasseth an understanding of most
A love so divine money cannot buy
Much too many songs for her to express
Truly rejuevenating the souls quest
Her heart speaks a language not all may hear
You, me, the trees - Her audience is vast
A marriage made in heaven few know
Oh, such freedom; the seed now sown
Beautiful peace fulfills the spirit
A land of plenty; happiness shines here
Allegra continues strumming her guitar
Yes, dear
poem by Hope Hills
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Related quotes
Inside Of My Guitar
INSIDE OF MY GUITAR
Melvin Banggollay
When I saw my guitar hanging on the wall
It reminds me that once I do sung with joy
as I passionately air a melody one can enjoy
while my guitar hummed songs I can't recall.
Come inside of my guitar
There's a garden full of star
Shinning to tingle your desire
To hear me even you're afar
For the wind will surely whisper
deep in your hear to remember
my love to thee will be forever.
But now my guitar solemnly rest in the wall
with no sweet tune to hum one can enjoy
For my heart could no longer feel the joy
to air tender melody I love to sing and recall.
I buried my desire to sing forever
For you are no longer here to hear
the love songs I used to proudly offer
whenever we are enjoying together
Sharing melody with my old guitar
that one can even hear from afar
as the wind loved to share its nectar.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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A Lover's Melody or And from the Oboe Came a Pretty Sound
And from the oboe came a pretty sound
The crescendo called love
From the bell that was his lover's heart
More beautiful than anything
Vivaldi could compose
True, she was an oboe
Alone, in an orchestra of drums, saxophones, and pianos
But she met a guitar
A beautifully carved acoustic instrument
That made a sound like no other
She'd ever heard
Together they made sweet, sweet music
The love-struck oboe wanted to stay
With the guitar, cut a deal, and
Make some records
But, alas, the guitar
Was completely unaware
Of the melody the oboe was playing
From the oboe came a pretty sound
And the guitar, he sung back
Of the returned love
The oboe was looking for,
It was a tune of lament—sad and slow
For he knew he could not give her
What she desired
So he set himself on fire
And from the guitar came a descend
When the oboe found her lover she
picked up what was left of he
and put it in a box of oak
and sailed it off to sea
the oboe knew no sad songs
but she wanted to sing him a tune
so on the beautiful sunset on June
she hummed him what she knew…
…and from the oboe came a pretty sound
poem by Alecia Carroll
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Can Play (Lyrics) :
He didn't give himself up to fear.
And his voice had a life of its own.
He didn't give himself up for broke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar', 'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to drinking beer.
His voice still had a life of its own.
And he didn't give himself up for smoke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to curcumstance.
Always tried to make it alone.
He didn't give himself up to telling lies.
His honesty was already shown.
Always kept himself up to par.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'...
Rock Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1987,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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There Are a Lot of People in the World Called Jack
There’s an old man singing
Out on his front porch
Strumming his guitar
Like it’s 1954.
It may have been a while
But he remembers every chord
And although it doesn’t look like much
It’s all he could afford.
Yes, the paint is peeling
And the strings are wearing thin
And it’s still sporting the logo
Of the band he once was in
But every cent he ever earned
Bought him that guitar
He should have known that green ambition
Never gets you far.
His fingers pace the tired strings.
Performing through the days
Mister-Money-Buys-You-Talent
So-I’m-Al ways-Going-To-Pay.
Stupid to the audience
Who stand around and stare
He closes his eyes and flutters back
Forgets his silver hair.
When he carried solos
With the music in his arms
Failure was not a choice
Nothing could do him harm.
As the final bar echoes
A chord dies in his hands
He falls down hard onto his porch,
And ceases the painful sound.
His weary face stares from his hands
The audience just smile,
Walk from the man and his guitar
Always in denial.
poem by Victoria Annette Bailey
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Keep On Strumming The Guitar Strings
my dear
keep on strumming the guitar strings
on this lonely night
where are the stars
are dead and gone
keep on strumming and let me simply
hum a tune for you
keep on strumming until your fingers
bleed until i stop singing until
the two of us become one
breathing soul
in our chosen spot
of silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Marley from Marie
Here is a story of an old guitar,
A gift made last century, early on.
This token of love was there given,
And received by her chosen one.
Inside these words were written,
By the hand of the girl he adored.
Saying 'To Marley from Marie',
That Christmas Day.....1934.
Now peacefully sleeping with angels,
Yet to live again through the strings.
In a granddaughter's gentle hands,
The instrument once more softly sings.
So grandfather Marley's old guitar,
Finds new voice as it's gently played.
Sharing the music of their timeless love,
Recalling the songs of those yesterdays.
(Rest in Peace grandfather)
poem by Carolyn Marie Taylor
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Too Beautiful For Words
Verse 1
When I try to describe how I feel when you hold me
I get butterflies lullabies, its hard to explain
Like the sent of a rose or the sound of the rain
Its too precious and too wonderful to give it a name
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
Verse 2
Its on the tip of my tongue
But my lips are still sealed
Only violins and their innocence can show you how I feel
And I hear them again
At the end of the day
Im all teary-eyed when we kiss good-bye
Theres nothing I can say
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside of me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
Verse 3
Must be a million times
Ive tried to express this love of mine
When it goes this deep, when it tastes this sweet
Its not easy to define
Chorus
Too beautiful for words
A symphony inside me
Too beautiful for words
I can not take them lightly
Can you hear my silent heart
song performed by by Christina Aguilera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Guitar And A Penutbutter Jar
I sit and play my guitar all day
as my fingers lay on the strings so tight
strumming it lightly
make sounds of pain
my fingers are bleeding but i dont care
the pain i feel inside is much stronger
why am i still alive?
can i take this any longer?
his voice tells me to keep playing on
my hearts want to die after my last song
i reach for the jar of penutbutter
they say there is happyness at the bottom
but they lie
the only thing i have left
is my guitar and an empty penutbutter jar
scrapping at the bottom as it keeps me busy
my hearts are screaming PICK UP THE BLADE! !
dont put it down because its the only happeness you will ever know
its hard to stop some times i give in and do it
the blood flowing from my wrist to my guitar
my tears mixing in
so maybe there is hapyness in
my self mutilation, my guitar
and at the end of an empty penutbutter jar
poem by Sandy Vanity
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While My Guitar Gently Weeps...
It's hard to tell how many regrets my heart keeps,
After the scars of my heart I see.
Eyes fall short of tears to cry,
While my guitar gently weeps...
When my present turns back and into the past it peeps,
Delightful memories flood in with a sweet pain.
All the anguish comes out through the strings,
While my guitar gently weeps...
As the nostalgia
on my broken heart creeps,
I curse myself for my blunders.
Nobody can ever hear my heart sob,
While my guitar gently weeps...
It is so unfair that the whole world peacefully sleeps,
And has faithful people to care.
But I have nobody to console me,
While my guitar gently weeps...
-SUJAY.S.P
poem by Sujay Patekar
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Selling the Guitar
The old strings of this guitar
they argue with my fingers
Perhaps the E string
with its proud tone
has better things to do
Maybe one night
this guitar
chose to become a piano
or speak other languages
Someone put the words
Out of tune
It no longer understands me
Now the songs refuse to be heard
Now things don't sound the same
And this guitar, I'm selling-
Perhaps has something against my fingers.
poem by Elvis Lantan
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My Own Fairytale
my fairytale is beautiful it is the only thing that is my own
there are trees and wild flowers with little fairies
there are love bugs and butterflies
i sit on a log and play my guitar and sing beautiful songs
the fairies gather around to hear the beautiful noise
but my fairytale is dead now and has no color
only because my heart is broken and i broke a string on my guitar
and i sit on this log weeping and waiting for someone
to restring my guitar and to repair my heart
as if that will ever happen........................................... ...........................! ? !
poem by Breanna Wilson
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Song of Youth
The sidewalk burned with oranges and yellows
I could not resist
Your face the essence of a morning heaven
Luring me in with it’s presence
The songs of our youth
Hummed from your guitar
So I lied myself down
Shutting my eyes to rest
As your voice sang softly
Light glinted from angels wings
I gave you all my trust
To our surreal dream
Night fell over your soul
Time crept behind your back
Before my arms circled your stomach
Your skinny body left
The songs of our youth
Hummed from your guitar
So I lied myself down
Shutting my eyes to rest
The last glowing stars
Fell upon my little shoulders
The last spark of a childish love
I shall always cherish
poem by Marijke McKinney
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An Old Dusty Guitar
I walked into a shop one day,
in a dusty corner stood an old guitar.
Dust was playing its only refrain now;
no one took much notice
of it standing there
with several broken strings
looking worn and forlorn.
As I stood and looked at it, I
wondered what stories it could tell.
Were you played by someone famous,
and how many footlights did it see? On the other hand,
were you just strummed by someone
dreaming of stardom out of reach?
How far did this dreamer get, oh, old dusty guitar.
How much I would love to hear your story,
but I have to leave much to my regret,
but if your still hear tomorrow,
and I have enough money.
You will no longer be
an old dusty guitar,
for you will belong to me.
poem by David Harris
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Rocking With My Guitar
I'M JUST SITING HERE STRUMMING
WITH MY GUITAR IN HAND
FEELING SO RELAX
WITH EVERY CHORD I TOUCH MAN
AND ROCKING AWAY
FROM WHAT THE GREAT ONES WROTE
BY FOLLOWING EACH MUSIC NOTE
AND PICTURING ME IN THERE BAND
ASK TO DO A SOLO ON MY GUITAR
AND FEELING LIKE A BRIEF SUPER STAR
IF FRONT OF THE CROWD
CHEERING AND JEERING FOR ME
WHEN I JUMP IN THE AIR
WITH MY GUITAR IN HAND
READY TO DO ANOTHER CLASSIC SONG
AND STILL THERE SCREAMING
CLAPPING ALONG
UNTIL I COME BACK TO EARTH
PUTTING MY GUITAR GENTLY IN IT'S STAND
NEXT TO MY READING LIGHT
AND QUIETLY CALL IT A RIGHT
poem by Bruce Martone
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Strumming The Strings Of My Heart
I watch you play,
Making a beautiful tune
The strings of the guitar shaking
As you sit in the light of the moon
Your plucking the strings
With great ease
Making a flowing melody
A pretty song, just for me
I continue to watch
You playing your guitar
Making me love you
While your strumming the strings of my heart
These strings will never be touched
By anyone but you
You go where no one else can
Leaving a mark, like a tattoo,
Saying I LOVE YOU
poem by Katniss Everdeen
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Strumming the Guitar
When reflecting upon
Nostalgic times,
The guitar brings
Memories to mind.
Open-air concerts
Beneath starry skies
Brought lots of fun
To so many lives.
Embracing the moments
Of the day,
The guitarists faithfully
Strummed away.
Folks savored the tune
Of the joyful sounds—
Enjoying one another
E’er the world went round.
Music is spirited
And carefree.
And strumming the guitar
Does it for me.
©
**Footnote: For the guitarist.
poem by Walterrean Salley
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While My Guitar Gently Weeps
I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love
I don't know how someone controlled you
They bought and sold you.
I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps
I don't know how you were diverted
You were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
No one alerted you.
I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
Look at you all...
Still my guitar gently weeps.
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ain't Got Nothin' Better
I'm always on the run with my guitar and my old shoes
I'm movin' and I'm groovin' and I really got the blues
I'm always havin' fun and I've got nothin' left to lose
I never tune my guitar 'cause I like the way it grooves
Sitting in a sleazy bar I'm slowly goin' down
I ain't got no more money but I know you'll be around
Early in the morning and the first kiss isn't far
I ain't got nothing better than my girl and my guitar
We're rockin' and we're rolling and we don't know what we do
We play so loud and out of tune I need a new tattoo
We don't give a damn-shit we five horsemen on the run
We only wanna go out there and have a lot of fun
Chorus
Take me through the night and I will always be with you
Feel me, touch me, hear me, yes I love the things we do
Love me and I show you just the way I love you too
We belong together and I never let you go
Chorus
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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While Playing My Guitar
gently strumming my guitar
soft music fills the air
quietly humming along
thoughts begin floating
getting carried away
with notes beautifully played
approaching you reach out
taking my hand, leading me
finding our secret escape
twirling along with the chorus
lyrics written so perfect
matching our special moment
smiling, pulling me closer
you steal a kiss from me
more rapidly the song plays
matching our hearts fluttering
dancing and laughing
enjoying the sweet melody
till all too soon we begin fading
slowing, this perfect songs ending
leaving, whispering you love me
alone again, just dreaming
of what might have been
while quietly playing my guitar.
poem by Silentpoet Grl
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The Fastest Guitar Alive
Orbison/dees
Hey here I go a lucky so and so
Happy cos I know Ive got my fast guitar
Singing pretty songs, knowing I belong
I am first and last, and always a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Rattling strings like a gattling gun
Shaped like a lovely woman
Stay right where you are
My guitar is a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Im rolling on like a rolling stone
Gathering no moss, I play a boss guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Strumming like a battling soldiers drum
Shaped like a lovely woman
Stay right where you are
My guitar is a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Hey here I go a lucky so and so
Happy cos I know Ive got my fast guitar
The fastest guitar
The fastest guitar
The fastest guitar alive
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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