He sat softly strumming his guitar,
plucking the strings,.
As the notes fell like stars,
upon his being so very lonely.
Thinking about the girl,
who had broken his heart.
She had come like a lovely surprise,
unexpected and an absolute delight.
Then just as suddenly,
this girl had stolen his heart
and taken it with her when she went away.
It threw him for a loop,
made his world rock and sway.
He had but two things,
which he treasured the most.
They were his heart and his guitar
and so here he sat,
wondering why love had to be so sad.
Weeping and all alone,
he wrote the greatest love songs –
but couldn’t find a love of his own.
It brought a little smile,
as he kept right on strumming,
sweet accords like mellow wine.
He so longed for a love,
who would be just content,
to love a song writer,
who would sing all of his love songs –
just for her.
She’d be content to sit and listen,
dreaming wonderful dreams of a love so true.
The words and the music,
would never make her blue.
For they would come from the heart,
of a musician with a heart,
full of love and passion.
He kept on playing all the day long
and as the sun sank low,
the purple twilight came,
with a melancholy sadness all its own.
The music soon made the aching much less,
perhaps tomorrow he’d find a new love
and his heart would be whole again.