It is dusty. There is a strong smell of pine coming from the rosin lying next to me. My velvet blanket covers me as I wait for my owner to take me out of this dark, musty coffin. Read more ▶
If my violin could speak
it would say,
“My Kennedy you make lovely music
when you focus and play.
When my strings are in tune
with rosin on my bow,
I’m ready to perform with you
at your recital show.
Please be gentle
and try not to… Read more ▶
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