And the kid played his violin,

It was an usually unusual evening,
I was holding a chalice,
And the kid his violin,
It was an usually unusual evening,
I was holding a fluid lucid pen
And he his strings unhidden,

'Dad, are you going to listen?
I have got a new note taken...'
He asked me,
'Why not?
Play the tune'
I replied,
Resting my chalice close to my heart,
And the kid opened his,
Those knobs which could tighten those strings,
His bow he started running,
From d to e, catching a Morris,
His thursday evening -
A musical practice,

And waves came to me as if,
I was standing infront of a huge musical sea,
Waves just plundered me,
I closed my eyes,
I tried to feel the fall and the rise,
Of  a tune, every moment unraveling
Itself,
A Morris,

It was an usually unusual evening,
I was holding a pen,
And a chalice,
And the kid played his violin.