You said you could only finger one chord,
I (poet that I am) could only find one word.

You never had an attentive audience before.
Nor me as we listen as one for each other’s encore.

You lift, heft and settle the guitar.
Pluck one note that echoes then journeys afar.

You play chords and melodies I know you never knew.
As I hear our heart’s words and sing them back to you.