Me and My Best Friend

On a rainy cloudy day, and there is nothing on TV, and the air is getting cold, and there is no one around to tell you to wash the dishes or fold and put away the laundry and, well that's enough.

So where do you turn.

You pick up your old friend and hold her close. She is always there. Like a real friend, ready at any time to play with you.

She sits patiently in the corner, waiting. She knows your moods and your tunes reverberate through the house as she responds to your fingers. She expresses your emotions with glee and without restrain.

You caress her body with smooth lines that beg for you to continue. She will continue to play as long as you hold her, but even then, she will be put aside.

This friend is always there, waiting. They will not judge you, they are only here for your pleasure.

Like the little tin solider waiting the child's hand to grab it off the shelf and play again, but alone, covered in dust.

They are scattered around the rooms waiting. Waiting for that moment when they will be held and warmth from the hands make them sing.



They are my best friends and bring me such joy.