Heart strings
Pull my heart strings,play on them with your fragile fingers
Play on them like the harp
With a golden frame I stand before you
Oh, please do touch me
And play your tender music
My body it trembles
as you stroke me in the softest way
and pluck my strings in a pizzicato
A pizzicato of love
oh, so tender
Like music to my ears
You are my musician,
and I am your instrument
We live together in symbiosis
Without you I am but a piece of furniture
with no real purpose in life
You make me complete,
My music creator
And creator of love...
Poetry by Sabrina
Read 1017 times
Written on 2006-10-30 at 22:15
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Shanmugam |
Texts |
Increase font
Decrease