Thin fingers, agile, moving in intricate
Fashions across the darkwood surface, its
Artful motion, with expertise manipulating the
Bow in hand and the strings stretched taut in
Various acute manners, producing a melody
At times soothing, at times perky, now and
Then a composition for melancholy and
Occasionally one for the eyes to close.
Calling with caress, all who hear it, casting its charm,
Permeating spheres of tension, emanating
Carefully arranged pitches and notations to
Mesmerize the auditory senses. The violinist
Stands there, postured, eyelids shut, hands in motion
To produce sounds as beautiful as waves of the ocean.