Joanne by Raymond A. Foss
The violin sang over the hum, the rumble the guitars by her side
They held the rhythm oh, but she was the soul verve, the muse that danced across the room catching the conversations short for a moment or two at the coffeehouse again
Her quick reflexes, natural smile; joy in her shared gift, whether bluegrass or folk serious or sassy
Pure talent unfurled smile infectious – receiving the gift in the knowing the certainty of His hand – in the sharing.
Written 3/4/05 8:45pm edited 3/6/05 10:15am edited 3/23/05 9:05
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