With maestro barton-like pen
I begin my song.
My lyrical words ready
for ears and eyes.

With its stick filled with passions
I continue to write,
focused on covering blank page
with notes of words.

They move dancing in rhythms.
They expand tickling hair follicles
They are alive as if each sound is a musical beings.

And thus the symphony is done.
Completed for lids that applaud.