My Singing Binder
Inside you:
Creased
Wrinkled
Out of order
The notes all about
Creating a cacophony of sounds the minute they are let loose
One fourth
Two Fourth
Three Fourth
Four Fourth
The beats stamped out
Like a parade of soldiers marching to the beat of a drum
Crescendo
Sharps
Flats
Devils triads
Making the formal notes relaxed
I find my piece,
put it on a stand
Relax
Breath in
Find the first note
My mouth opens
Notes fall out
Not even comprehending what I am doing
Breaks
Trills
Grace notes
Gives a song flair
I can do what I please with them
Silence
The music fades out
Not longer is the melody filling the air
The sheets are returned to the binder until next time
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