A Wooden Story

This is not a story about John Wooden. I mean wooden as in consisting of wood. I took a minute in another hotel room to reflect and think about what my guitar would say – if it could speak. I think it might say some of the things herein – probably a lot more than what I could think of. But I will never know. I just hope it is good – I try my best. I hope you enjoy the story and rock on!

What story would this guitar tell

Would it be true

Or would it lie

Would it tell you everything

Or just enough to stop the questions

Would it be loud

Or soft

And kind

Gentle or harsh

Loud and unforgiving


What would it say

Brag and boast

Or simply tell a small tale

Would it go on and on

Or just talk for a quick minute

I would like to think I have taken care of her

She has worked hard and played hard

I try to let her see the world

Through song and lyric

I expose her to new challenges and obstacles

Experiences and countries

Al the while she continues to stay true

To work hard and stay in tune

She needs a little love and care

And a bit of repair

But on Saturday nights you can hear her

Sing bright in the stage light

Bringing a smile to my face

Resonating at her own pace

I hope she has a great life

When she reflects she can say

Being here with me was much better

Than ok

Lifeless Piano

Checked into a hotel yesterday. Walking in I noticed a nice, but not too nice, piano sitting looking lonely and needing to be played. Just to ring out for a couple of minutes maybe ten at best! However I was denied very admittedly – I even felt lied to. They just don’t want any “kids” to touch the piano. It is a sad thing – which got me thinking – what is a piano with no one ever playing it. So here is a poem for the situation as it went down. Enjoy!

You know the piano sitting there is just a piece of wood

I remarked to the lady at the hotel counter

She looked confused and had not understood

That if an instrument makes no music

what is it

it truly is no good

sitting neglected

disconnected from the rest of the world

If it could speak

what would it say

I am sure it would be ready to play

sing and project

overbearing owner has no soul for sound

he just simply looks to protect

and deflect any “kids” from the wood and strings

the one thing in life that is truly made to sing

the lady looks at me again

treating me as if I were ten

and then says

I can not have the “kids” banging on the keys

surely she could not have meant me

but she did

so in reply I jabbed

a piano locked is just a piece of wood

I hope that you can enjoy that

this she truly understood

as I walked away feeling quite sick

One sentenced resounded in my mind