Chasing the Fiddler

When I was young I chased the boys
Or they chased me, it matters little,
One played guitar, one the haut-boys
But him I fell for played the fiddle.

He played oblivious to the rum-
or that his bow made girlfriends run
Away, for in a far off room
I heard the sound, and my heart done

And listens, darn it! to the notes
And then the plucking on the strings
And direct to my mind there floats
Ambivalence about such things

As values, valences, and valor
Roads to be trod and time well spent,
For beneath his olive pallor
Burned a passion that soon rent

My heart strings which he’d pluck with ease
Quite into shreds, and all I knew
Was this strange fiddler with a breeze
Had hung my heart in morning dew

Where vital manna lay there waiting
To be gathered, tasted, eaten,
So embarked we on long dating
Till the opposition, beaten,

With a sigh told me I’d won
And so we wed for many a year;
A daughter fair, and then a son
And then two more and in the clear

For future DNA, we held
Each other’s hand to get us through
The hardest years when were withheld
Our nights together. But time flew

And many notes and words were writ
And many strings were pulled and, tight,
They sent vibrations till they split
The atom between wrong and right.

He was my mentor, is my strength,
Once saved my life - then breath, now mind,
And I would go to any length
To rescue him from evilkind;

Upon his birthday, born today,
I kiss his merry mouth and eyes
So that he sparkles and will play
My heartstrings – he’s my greatest prize.


Happy Birthday
May 3, 2010