An Ode to Consonance Emerson Smith

An Ode to Consonance

Emerson Smith

O’ jovial companion, you melodious songbird, your golden honey resonance, is the sweetest I’ve ever heard You zenith of my heart, you bring about a boon, your expensive repertoire, your cadence quick and soon O’ righteous love of mine, with such cheery disposition, your sweetest note could wake the dead, raise the sickly out of bed, cure the world of all it’s woes, turn bud into a blooming rose The scent of spruce maple and earth, the rosin’s coarse aroma, a value of inestimable worth, perhaps just to a certain persona Smooth and slender hatchback, your shoulder burnished, your skin unblemished, your details sharp and ornately furnished Your saddest tune it strikes my heart, the mournful nature of your strings, a soulful rhythm that tears apart, a serenade to every living thing Why, might you ask, do I admire you so, violin? simply put, i suppose it’s the way it is and always has been for consonance knows no bounds, it only crescendos