WHAT IT DOES TO ME

Fingertips on nylon one string at a time

Notes plucked by a curled thumb

The empty room in sharp contrast

Strewn with vestiges of giggles and rhymes

A set of ears in rapt attention

The familiar refrain sets feet a tapping

A solitary voice makes a shy beginning 

And somewhere in the song

Absentminded I sing along

It’s what it does to me

The lyrics flow taking attention for granted 

Confident a single note can’t be missed

Time revolves the room dissolves

Looming a memory from another decade

A shadow mine with guitar at hand

Strumming to none but a friendly ghost

Who chooses this time not to annoy

But allow echoes run as I play

Nodding to reverberations ruling the room

It’s what it does to me

Another stage comes to view

The room transforms to a grassy hill

The surroundings open, the weather equable

Neither hot nor cold but just right 

I play there not to myself

Ego taking flight a few feet

Soaring over the hill

Pausing to survey the animals

And supporting my endeavour with a grin

It’s what it does to me

And just as it had begun

I return to being spectator 

The guitar sounding sweeter

Than all my memories combined

The voice I hear is special indeed 

A chorus strong adds to the magic

Teasing the listener into a forward slant 

In another life I concluded 

Things might have been quite different 

It’s what it does to me