Muse of Music

Learning guitar at the library.

I am intent to play guitar;
the local library indeed.
I will not have to travel far;
help with guitar is what I need.

A special room prepared all right;
no sound is able to get free.
The thought of learning a delight;
here comes the sun instead of me.

The light shines as I use my pick;
a simple cord would be okay.
To learn guitar, there is no trick;
one has to press the fret each day.

But here in library extant
the teaching goes without a trip.
So lucky I’ve received this grant;
guitar acoustic in my grip.

The readers in library stand
when they see us musicians pass.
Perhaps they think it’s Wonderland,
but they’ve no right to looking glass.

I look around the room in awe;
the others here in joy still grin.
My fingers feel a little raw,
but that’s the cost when you begin.

Beyond the door the readers read;
here in this room we’re music folk.
We simply cater to the need,
because the muse of music spoke.


28 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
7-31-16