Busking

Concerned messagios from fellow strummers ask if my lotus gobbling and tilling the fields have turned my voice croaky and delicate digits too calloused to caress the strings.

Gouvia groovier: Fret not. The old mojo is alive and sounding better 'n ever.

The twang's the thang: I'm reunited with the guitar I played throughout my actual streetsinging days of the late sixties.

It's sounding gutsier and mellow than ever.