David played his guitar, serenaded every beauty, and won every heart
But beauty is common and the one he loved, would not succumb to any flamboyant art.
So he left all behind to learn from the woods and discover its secret to seduce his beloved.
For years, he sat on the root of the beach to listen and glow in nature's harmony.
Leaves fluttered onto his strings, but never did he stop playing these autumn things.
Snow dusted the guitar's wooden neck, but not a second would winter linger his set.
The melt and dew washed off the dust, and in spring his pursuit carried on in lust.
The shade made cool his fingers in summer, and not a second did David's music stutter.
His hair grew long, a patched beard formed, and his skin turned as gray as the tree.
In sickness and in hunger, skinniness took over but he wouldnot stop playing his song.
Ten years he played to win her affection, listen, practice, and repeat.
When he was ready to return, his weakened legs wobbled him down into town.
While there he found his red-haired love on a bench in the grass in the sun sitting fast.
He played her his ripe soul of autumn leaves, of powder snow, of flora grow,
Summer warmth and shaded breeze, of skinny trees and mated bees.
Frozen seeds and sprouting greens, of mulching leaves and scented trees.
Of lighted paths and mirrored lakes, of mountain rocks and twilight hawks.
Partnered fish and water's hiss from the waterfall's gentle bliss.
Sunset's grace and mammal's haste, of lazy snow that heat erased:
This through his guitar she did hear, for David combined all he could for his dear.
But all in vain for the vanished years had changed the lives of those in town.
A bolder lover had advanced, won her heart, on more than one stance,
And a family had begun which now included their newborn son.
David's playing had no hope to change his lost regrets and lover's elope.
When the sound of his music, he no longer could bare,
He went back to the woods and the beach tree's place, the same woods where he'd learned to hear.
He sat for weeks on that same gray root huddled in comfort under the light green roof
David forgot the years and his many tears, till the beat of his heart daily fainter got.
His body decayed, his mind was stolidly made, and all his pain slowly drifted away.
David died on the root, a gift back to his muse to eventually get carried up in the rain.
Where he fell from the sky to soften the earth, seep through the ground
And slowly feed that gracious tree, and in his gift David's song was lost to eternity.