Violin

The shimmering music glides out into the hallways,
drifting into the silent rooms,
filling them like a water jug and pouring out as it continues down the corridors,
its smooth curves and sharp edges sit on my shoulder,
my fingers dance up and down the finger board like ballerinas,
I draw the horse hairs along the silvery strings,
her operatic voice is a breath taker, a dream maker,
her music can taste sweet or sour,
or she can fill your ears with sadness,
she is the busiest hummingbird or the most beautiful butterfly,
like the butterfly her music glides through the air filling people with aw,
like the hummingbird her music is quick and busy,
her deep mellow voice calls to me to sing with her,
and so I listen to my violin.

The violin is special to me because it was not the first instrument I picked up but the first one I decided to learn to play and it expresses my love music.