When words are left unspoken, I dedicate you in my poems.

Appassionato.

There she was with her six stringed instrument,
Playing each chord with emotion and excitement;
Her calm voice and the soft hand movements,
No longer made me think that she was just a participant.

A stern person was I when it came to music,
Each note, I played and felt it.
Her hand strumming each string, so poetic;
Admitting seeing her now, my heart is melted.

~reen