Poetry: Harp

I softly pluck 

her slender strings

and marvel at 

her graceful shape

in her melodies 

my ears delight

I then am filled 

with a sense of peace

a sense of calm, of serenity.

Sometimes, though

I want to dance

to her sprightly melodies,

and when I pluck

her slender strings

there is nothing more I want

than to play her forever

though stop I must

for she is not my own.

This is written about the only harp I have ever had the chance to play, one housed at my Grandparent's. I love the bit of time that I get to play it, and wrote this poem in honor of that harp.