First Fight. Then Fiddle
First fight. Then fiddle. Ply the slipping string
With feathery sorcery; muzzle the note
With hurting love; the music that they wrote
Bewitch, bewilder. Qualify to sing
Threadwise. Devise no salt, no hempen thing
For the dear instrument to bear. Devote
The bow to silks and honey. Be remote
A while from malice and from murdering,
But first to arms, to armor. Carry hate
In front of you and harmony behind.
Be deaf to music and to beauty blind.
Win war. Rise bloody, maybe not too late
For having first to civilize a space
Wherein to play your violin with grace.
About the Author
A passionate violinist, country music addict, and a high spirited dancer, Anna has a gigantic place in her heart for music. Her favorite pastimes include hiking, spending time with friends, and going to country music concerts. She was born and raised in a small town in Wisconsin with a younger sister and an older brother. She is now a proud aunt, as well as future Minnesota Gopher. In the fall, she will pursue an undergraduate degree in political science with a minor in Spanish Language. Anna values her education and is an exceptional student. She hopes to one day own her own law firm.