He played her heart
strings, plucked each
one with practised
hand, ode to joy
.
in every note. By
the time her soul
was his, he had changed
his tune, cadence
.
soured by off-colour
harmonies out of
place with love
songs; now her
.
heart-strings sag,
derelict, waiting
to be moved by
a new duet.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
Now that, indeed, feels very familiar. Beautiful, yet tragic, piece.
Thank you Sahm, for your visits and your insightful words. It could be that this experience will make our little flower wiser, and more prepared for a real and fulfilling match…
Indeed. Where closes one door others must open, and the wisdom of experience is a learned guide.
Absolutely! 🙂
😦 …. but the new duet may be better 🙂
In my imaginary world for this one, I think it will be MUCH better! Thanks Gallivanta.
Beautiful …waiting to be moved, not played!
What a lovely thought. you have captured my intent with this one so marvellously – thank you!
Oh, I know how this feels!
I know you do. Your experiences are shaping your compassion, friend.
That’s a great way to think about it.
not really liking the sound of that 😦
Not personal – just thinking about life. I’m okay! 🙂
good 🙂 …. no wait… GREAT!
🙂 You are so sweet.
I’ve been gone for awhile and now back on, love your writings as always!! I have a new blog started so please visit sometime 🙂
Welcome back! I’ll stop by soon!
Reblogged this on Miladynotes.
this made me smile and cry.
You have a soft and romantic nature, I can tell. 😉
Beautifully sad.
In my imagination, the ‘next one’ will be true love… 🙂 Thanks Rosy.
🙂
Serious bummer, Mel.
A little like your short stories, leaving us hanging. But I think she will meet Someone who will be exactly the right heart-match!
You’re so patient with me, Mel! Oh, and thanks for the reminder that I need to get cracking on a 7-sentence story….