Viola

A beautiful woman sings with soothing, deep alto,
Then amazes with range to sing crystalline soprano,
Her light brown skin shines blinding in the spotlights,
Impossibly curvaceous.  How I love these nights!

Breathing deep, resonant tones shine from
Her voice box, her shapely perfection;
I would choose an alto, over a thousand others
With high-pitched, squeaking, tinny registers.

A piece of intricate, hand carved, wooden jewelry
She holds tightly to her chest, engraved for beauty
Suspended in place with four silver strings.
My bow dances merrily, and my viola sings.

 

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