Careful

Here I sit on my perch. A steel apparatus designed especially to hold and display my kind for the convenience of my owner. It is so much better out here in the open air, then being confined in that nasty wooden case. I am sometimes stranded in there for long periods of time,especially if I need to be transported to a gig. It can get frightening, lonely, and frustrating in there.

I have to be careful as well in order to insure my well being. I must be constantly monitoring myself for too much moisture in the Summer months. This can cause my body to expand and warp. Too little moisture in the Winter months will cause my body to dry up, shrink, and crack.

Now, I am able to breathe,to open the pores of my wooden body and absorb a small amount of moisture in the air. I have to be careful or it's off to the Luthier who thinks nothing of disassembling me and scattering my parts about on his workbench. So I must be careful when I am in my case.

It's so nice to be free from confinement. I can feel a soft breeze from time to time across my fretboard which tends to vibrate my strings and send out lovely musical tones. But,nothing brings me more joy then when I am caressed by my owner, and my strings are strummed.

I can feel her fingers on my fretboard, fingering the chords in a most invigorating progression. Her gentle action across my body excites me all the more, and I sing out through my sound chamber in the middle of my body. The wood resonating the notes that come from deep within the dark cavern of my sound hole. For I am a guitar.