The Mistress’s Song


Her elegant features-
How her saccharine voice echoes throughout the village square
In the streets of France.
A man with eyes as blue as the ocean
And a face so gentle,
Holds her in his arms.
Adoring, serene and tranquil,
His hands dance across her spine,
Running his fingers gracefully down them.
Oh, how he picks her out from all the others.
She is elite; she is beautiful; she is his.
How he displays her to the other men
Who want to win her over.
Embracing her in his arms,
She reveals a gentle high tune,
Then her song befalls tragedy.
Her music is sad; heartbreaking.
Tears fall from the man’s face
As he listens to her song.
He collapses to his knees, weeping.
The crowd disappears into the night,
Leaving the poor man all alone
With his mistress who is singing
Such a heartrending song.
All is silent in the night.
As soon as she is finished with her song
The man gets up,
Heartbroken, devastated and weary
Leaving his dearest mistress all alone
In the streets of France.
A song that is lost in the night.
A song that is gone but not forgotten.
With a heavy heart,
And eyes that are dimmed with sorrow,
The man doesn’t look back
To glance at his mistress one last time.
His mistress-
The violin.

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