If I Could Play The Guitar

If I could play the guitar I’d write a song of you. There would be no lilting notes, no staccatos, or major keys. Only sadness and heartache would form the refrain.
If I could, I’d strum out a chorus for you. My tears would fall on the strings as they twanged out the tune in rhythm with the distant surf. Palm trees would sway in time and the sand would whip through the wind. No sun on the beach would warm, only clouds would shade the shore. If I could I would pour out my heart in a ballad meant only for you. The yearning, the longing, the hurting and hoping, would all find their way in my song. No words would be needed just sounds to portray these feelings inside. Oh, to rescue you from that pain. This string of notes is my rope to pull you up. Cling to it as I dig in my feet. Scraping, clawing, climbing out of the pit…I slap the wood as you fall back again. If I could I would pick out a lullaby to help you forget your woes. The darkening sky rocks back and forth. Back and forth back and forth… mournfully droning the song would continue until nothing was left to say.

The King with a Question : A children’s story

One day while a certain king was bathing in his castle a sudden question occurred to him. Why should one bathe? He thought and thought, but could not come up with a good reason. So he decided to go looking for an answer.

“Why should one bathe?” asked the king of a peasant passing the castle.
“To prevent disease.” said the peasant in reply.
The king then asked a maidservant “Why should one bathe?”
“So that one always smells sweet.” answered she.
Next he asked a priest, “Sir, why should one bathe?”
The priest said, “Cleanliness is next to godliness.”
He asked a Knight who answered, “So as not to offend the ladies.”
He asked a pig and the pig oinked back, “So the mud always feels fresh.”
The cat meowed, “To keep one’s coat shiny and smooth.”
The horse nickered, “So the master is proud.”
He also inquired of a dog, “Why should one bathe?”
The dog looked at the king as if he were crazy, “to keep the fleas off of course.” he barked. Stunned by the dog’s blunt reply the king ended his search for an answer. None of the answers given could satisfy him. With a sigh of defeat he slumped onto a stump. As he sat there he spied a puddle. In the puddle was a little sparrow, trilling and splashing. The king crouched near the puddle so as not to frighten the little bird and softly asked him what he was doing.
“I’m bathing.” chirped the sparrow.
“To prevent disease or smell sweet?” asked the king.
“No” was the reply.
“To be holy and not offend the ladies?” asked the king.
“No” trilled the bird.
“So the mud feels fresh, the bugs stay away, your feathers stay shiny and the master is proud?” asked the king.
“Of course not.” Squeaked the tiny bird as he splashed in the puddle.
“Then why?” pleaded the king.
“For sheer pleasure!” sang the sparrow as he soared up into the air, flicking droplets onto the king. The king smiled as he watched the little bird fly away. Yes that is a very good reason indeed.