Symphoney.

Chosen, tantalised, to there so close thine eyes, in musical moments, Released all cares through reaching recitals, so buried now within the stave's, Fingers flexing, skilfully etching, a melody of all the heart to both hear and see. Exciting sounds of pure perfection, racing to the senses from all direction. Resounding then loud, so as to hear the beat of heart, Memories in music then a part, Quavered and crocheted, in poetic abundance. Such the resonance the soul to see! Traverse me there then, upon the clouds of Clarinet! Wing me wandered, upon the Harps repose. Vail me unshaded in stringed ecstasy of Violin, For then in all my heart and mind they do so sing! Chorus me in carpets then, of orchestrated bliss! So finely woven intricate, in Oboes saddened kiss. That all of this can take me so to heavens new, That all of symphony, could make my heart renewed! Reeling me, searching me! So to find! The ache of stirring reeds, enriches the mind, Coaxing me then so now, to a winged height, With music formed in fretted sagacious sound! In music then, there is poetry found!