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You say that you're no artist. True?
I disagree, and say to you:
Like a river flowing free
Music rises from your strings
First a sonata, just for me
Oh how sweet! It must have wings
To soar so sweetly, climb so high
I swear, I swear, that heaven's nigh
If I could play that way I would
Yet somehow you and I both know
That my poor talent never could
Come to life like yours and grow
There is no envy here, my dear-
Just truth and beauty do I hear…
With six strings stretched across a bridge
And up a rosewood fingerboard
You paint the colors of the ridge
In shades of music, silken cord
Connecting all who hear in joy…
Not bad at all. I like your toy!
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