Guitar Music

Lay with me in the grit of jet black sand

bracing for the near storm holding my hips;

prior to wind's bellows stroking every hair strand

kissing my sleek neck before chaffed lips.

Against the thunder and lightning array,

shield me, blanketing my wide-open hinges;

and as the scene has come to a delay,

hoist me above the superficial singes.

Strum on my center, lower, and louder,

until we arouse the lightening,

and as it eventuates in power,

may we make sound music fittingly.

-Jg