New Poem! Ode to Guitar Players

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Ode to Guitar Players
by Michael Rays
What meaneth one who says ‘I play guitar’?
A batch of basic chords strummed ‘round the fire
An introverted teen who’d be a star
woodshedding endless blues licks on a Squier?
A young gal voicing jazz chords warm and pure
An old man finger-picking on the porch
A classicist, with tones that long endure
or metal shredders carrying the torch?
A drunken punker, fast and out of tune
an aging rocker holding onto youth
a bold flamenco player ‘neath the moon
a studious composer seeking truth?
Thus meaneth one who says ‘I play guitar’:
‘I’ve joined the journey infinitely far.’

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