The audience, silent, took a breath in unison
Included in the orchestra was every instrument imaginable
Banhus and Gadulkas played folk and polkas
The brutish brass, bodyguards and protectors of stringed melodies

Included in the orchestra was every instrument imaginable
A concert harp, plucked by fingers long, smooth and sharp
The brutish brass, bodyguards and protectors of the woodwind class
Saxophones provided a melancholy lilt, the timp was traditionally built

A concert harp, stroked by running fingers, smooth and sharp
Every sharp and flat note was passed through the throaty reeds of oboes
Saxophones reminiscent of ‘jive’, the timp in its size had nowhere to hide
This exhibition of musical traditions played late into evening with no intermissions

Every sharp and flat note accounted for, motifs carried whispers of folklore
Banhus and Gadulkas, swapped stories with bassoons and bagpipes
The exhibition had finished, piano keys rested, every note has its operatic death

The audience, silent, took a breath in unison

Hypnotic music, joyous sounds surround
The fans, all entranced by the performers.
The drummer happily bashes and pounds
Everything he sees shaped like cylinders.

The hi-hat steadily keeps the rhythm,
The bass drum makes a thud, quite powerful.
The crowd can't help but nod along with him
As he makes these beats so insatiable.

The cymbals create such fearful crashes,
And his finely tuned snare shoots roaring pops
Hurtling towards the off-guard masses,
This manic madness just can't seem to stop!

What exactly does he have left to prove?
He simply wants to see everyone *groove!

You said we've all got cracks and blemishes
wrinkles in our character
the little crevices where the past is hidden
where the fear settles as a dust,
nibbling away at a fragile foundation

It's this Modern Age I said,
kids in the automaton state
profit slaves desperate to break their screens
and return to the fields
rise and set with the sun
like in the ancient golden seasons

But you smiled, it has always been so
men with eyes glazed recalling days long gone
when the real work was done
when love was grand and the food were rich
Roman hearts pining for halcyon Greek nights

Then we are born crooked it seems
fresh but weathered like newborn lava
set under pressure, too old for our years
just clumsy instruments
put to task in a china shop
every stumble a chip in our innocence

And in there lies our radiance you beamed
with every glass shattered, a million gems by accident
refracting light on an imperfect world
every hasty breath a powerful wind
destined for great heights

So here we are at the beginning of the stage,
The instruments tuning to their right key.
The blare of the tuba combined with the horns,
Yet all in all I'm here to see you.
From afar I'm sure you're nervous,
The beginning jitters set in.  
Yet when it begins the silence falls,
And in that moment you'll shine.
The music will embrace the audience,
And your stage amongst others will be set.
So far yet so close,
Maybe, just maybe this is what love is.
Or maybe I'm wrong and I don't know anything,
But all in all without a doubt I certainly feel something.

I belong behind a Piano
fingers gently splayed across the keys
keeping time with my toes
I long to have a Cello between my knees
the button
pressed against my chest
every note vibrating through my limbs
my shoulder and right hand feels empty
without a Violin to keep them company
weaving my melody through the air with silver thread
stitching together the accompaniment and counter melody
while the bass thrums through the floors fusing us together with it’s
heartbeat
my fingers twitch filled with the need to touch the thin cords of a Harp
every lyrical note smoothing my frayed edges
lulling me into a daze
colors swirling behind my half lidded eyes
the lullaby flows from my fingertips
softly wrapping itself around me like a safety blanket
the musician in me craves music the way a ****** needs ******
my body sways to the music in my head
my soul belongs to the thrum and hum of the music
my heart belongs to the bone deep vibrations of every note
surrounded by music
the heartbeat of the bass pulsing through my veins
I have found where I belong
the place my soul, body and mind finds peace
I have found home
in the reverberating notes of the Cello
the thrumming heart of the Bass
the steady pulse of the Piano
the lilting lullaby of the Harp
and the Violin’s silver melody