The fiddle player plays her tune
under violescent sky,
enrapt inside each note she plays
the player gently rocks and sways
and as the song grows more intense
she taps her toes, kicks up her heels
awakened by the bow and string
blithe inner-spirit now revealed.
For music calls our very soul
it lifts the weary when we’re low
it fells the dark that lives within
to heal; to make us whole again.
So is it really happenstance,
some ancient rite, forgotten lore;
or could it be the song and dance
that whispers to our very core
and lives inside us, evermore.
"Challenged" by an Irish friend to write a poem that included the word fiddle, reveal and violescent, a word I'd never used but means as it sounds!
Image: Máiréad Nesbitt Fiddle player from Celtic Woman
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Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.