I hold the instrument delicately,
Horizontal in my two hands.
I reach my arm over the wood,
Gently fingering the strings.
My left hand relaxes,
letting muscle memory guide my fingers,
Pressing down firmly on the frets,
Then my right hand strums the chord.
Carefully shifting from E minor to G,
And play for the four beats needed.
Continuing to chords D, C and A minor,
Switching quickly and fluently, as I was taught.
I move my hands to the position for the outro,
Picking strings A G and B softly,
until I play the final note.
I let it ring out into the empty room.
I can strum the odd chord or two, but in all honesty, my time with a guitar never sounded half as rewarding as this!
A warm welcome to who surely is the smelliest niece an uncle could have this side of the Milky Way...