Screeching, squeaky violin
wailing ‘neath my daughter’s chin.
Each note played a fourth step flat,
sounding like a half-crazed cat.
She finishes and looks at me;
her expression asks expectantly.
“How was that Mom, was it good.”
I played it all the best I could.”
I kiss her head and say sincerely,
“Play it again, I loved it dearly.”
I'd love some suggestions on the last couplet. It's the sentiment I want, but I don't like the rhyme.
Comments
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Oh mom's are great. hey have a different ear when they listen o their children perform. But now I know what my own mom was thinking when I played in the band in school, lol
This was cute, and heartwarming.
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Dear Jenny,
How well I know that awful feeling
to hear that out-of-tune, scraped, squealing
as bow slides awkwardly on guts
and drives all nearby listeners nuts.
But everyone must learn you see
if they're to get as good as ME!
If you could only hear ME play...
They never built Rome in one day!
It's great to read another poem from your witty pen.
As usual, I love your rhyme and I think the couplet says it all perfectly. BRAVO ! - Applause, love and hugs, XXX Hugonini.
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Do you (or did you) play a stringed instrument? My 2 younger girls started 2 1/2 years ago and turned out to be very talented. That's one of the reasons I haven't written much poetry. I'm too busy driving kids to music lessons, orchestra etc.. For everything there is a season...
I hope you and your family are well Hugh. Maybe I'll be back in full swing one of these days. -
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I don't know whether I'm worst on violin or 'cello. One squeals while the other moans. I have less trouble with my piano! LOL.
I'll be waiting for you.
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