Love, large as an old world bass,
Continental passion carved from axe-felled wood,
tight-grained ice-age maple and spruce, hand rubbed,
aspect aptly warmed, figure preserved
with borax, salt, potassium silicate,
and for varnish, gum, honey, and egg white.
Such a love might cost more than a modest home,
and as testy, breathe like a bronze-red rhino,
each bow-stroke, each pluck, threatening a charge;
finicky about the hall too, to adjust
takes hours, kind persistence, persuasion,
but the tone, the pulse, the melodic urge
underneath, look at me, look at me now!