I once again asked my husband for a subject, any, to write about. His first response was “squid.”

Try again, I smirked.

“Okay,” he said, “electric guitar.”

Here is what my imagination and a half hour of time did with that suggestion!

The Magic Guitar

My mood was dusk

And the sky was too

The gray of the sidewalk

The clicks of my shoes

It all sounded lonely 

As I walked past closed shops

When a light up ahead

Caused me to stop

From a store front window

Came a golden glare

I approached with wonder

To see what was there

The rays of light glimmered 

Like a shimmering star 

And bathed in the glitter

Was an electric guitar

It was red and white

And it stood on a stand

I wanted that instrument 

Here in my hand

There was magic around it

In the neck and the strings

That guitar was meant

To bellow and sing

My playing was simple

Nothing off the charts

But the guitar wanted ME

I knew it in my heart

A sign said “Closed”

But I knocked on the door

I’m rarely that bold

Haven’t done that before

An old man peeked out

He looked in my eyes

He glanced in the window 

And to my surprise

He carefully lifted 

The guitar from its place

He opened the door

With a grin on his face

“I think this is yours,”

Is all that he said.

He handed it to me

And nodded his head

Then he locked up the door 

And the man disappeared

I hugged that guitar 

And shed a warm tear

As I walked the way home

No longer afraid

With my magic guitar

That longed to be played

And I knew in my hands

That glorious wood

Would sing to the people

Who would feel understood

And I wouldn’t be lonely

Forever from this day

As long as there is love 

In the notes that I play.