Ukulele

She was born in a land of sunshine

Where rainbows danced on waterfalls,

And the ocean whispered in the breeze.

She was crafted by the hands of a gentle giant,

Coffee skin and russet bark,

Two creatures in harmony.

She was the dancer and the singer,

Rolled into one,

The chords of her heart a beautiful

Melody.

Her little body,

Was a deception,

Of her titanic soul.

But the gentle giant already had one,

His own songstress mistress,

And put her on display for another to claim.

She sat untouched,

Her strings unplucked,

For months...

And then years,

Just another nick knack to ogle at.

The sunshine within her grain

Began to dim,

For her soul could not sing on its own.

But then!

Hands caressed her curves,

Snowy not earthen

But still beautiful fingers,

Made her music dance once again.

These strange hands paid her dowry,

And took her from the silence

Into the sunlight once again.

But it was only for a moment,

For soon she sat,

In the belly of a metal

Humming, beast.

There was no chance her song

Could out drone this mechanic behemoth.

She was alone again.

It was a only a short time,

Compared to the years,

Before she reunited with her milky companion.

But the land she found herself in…

Was bizarre,

With breezes baring frigid teeth,

And a strange darkness,

The sun seemed to hide in.

She had been cursed to

A never ending

Frozen night.

Her bronzed wood skin,

Felt tight,

Her strings taught.

It was like the cold was stealing

Her warmth,

Sapping memories of sunlit dreams.

She was not a creature of the artic,

And her tune

Was unmistakably altered.

But the sloshed and tipsy

Bar patrons,

And the mass of subway travelers,

Never seemed to notice,

The tin like way she sang now.

They only saw the little island mistress,

In the palm of her owner’s hand,

And placed their pennies in his cup,

Thanking him

For forcing her to dance for them too.

Only those few travelers,

From the sunlit isles,

Would hear her cry entrenched in

Her strains.

But they could not rescue

This stolen sister,

Only refuse to be one of the pennies,

In his cup.

She was but an instrument

Of her master,

Forever tamed and broken,

By the black cold.