Granddaddy's Guitar

Granddaddy's Guitar

Round back bent and broken

From years of nightly use.

Inlays missing, dusty,

rusty from  neglect and abuse.

Strings that are still and silent,

out of tune, played no more.

Once a master stroked you,

coerced the sound to soar.

The songs that lie encased,

inside your wooden heart,

These songs were my beginning,

where I got my start.

My grandfather once held you,

just like he once held me.

And when he touched our heart string,

set both our sprits free.

When I hold you now I know,

that I am free to know,

where eagles fly, where mill wheels turn,

where'er I want to go.

Thank you grandpa for this gift,

your favorite guitar.

I'll use it-while I'm here,

and then pass it on again!

Stillmagnolias, the group I sing with wrote a song about my grandfather.  If you would like to hear our music then check out our MySpace page StillMagnoliaslive and hear my group sing.  You might want to check out Flight 307 too.  My ex-husband has given us a plethera of ideas for music.  Happy Thursday!