Taking Note

A couple of months ago I decided that I would try my hand at learning the guitar. Inspired by my Dad’s commitment to learning the electric guitar a month before he passed away, I knew I had to give it a go myself. Within a few weeks my friend had given me one of her husband’s guitars and my lovely neighbour had Hugo agreed to teach me. He might indeed require the patience of a saint as I am not the most manually dexterous of souls, but I am thoroughly enjoying our lessons so far. The following poem came about from some rhyming banter in our last session.

Drink Thinking

Sad love song in the diner

He stared into his beer

That damn old song in minor

Brought back who he’d held dear

No flower budded finer

Than Jasmine his old flame

No perfumed kiss sublimer

He winced to hear her name

He’d turned into a winer

Since she’d chose to depart

His love had not defined her

and this smashed through his heart

and so this poor old-timer

said top me up and cheers

Sad love song in the diner

He hugged his pint of beer

Photo : https://www.vintag.es/2011/09/american-restaurants-of-1950s-and-1960s.html?m=1

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10 thoughts on “Taking Note

  1. Your story and poem / lyric are so touching. It is a wonderful and very personal gift.
    It is tough to learn guitar at first but your fingers will get nimble and the left hand
    finger tips will harden. You got a good teacher so, enjoy what your father so wished to
    give you. New creative talent and a nearness.
    Good luck from a fellow guitarist

    Miriam

    Like

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