Lord R. E. Taylor Poet Free verse

The Oboist On the Hill

A lone man
Standing in a cold rock outcropping
Rain soaks him to the skin
He laments the world’s troubles
War, famine, disease and poverty
His soul feels the pain of everyone around him
A black oboe touches his lips
Playing a sad refrain
One that echoes through the valley below
Each note carries a woe
Away from him and into the world around
Into the clouds that float above
Taking them into the beauty of a rainbow
Thousands of people flock to the hill
Just to listen to this single man
His songs lift their spirits
For a moment
One brief moment
His songs allow them to smile
And for the moment
They are happy
All because of a lone oboist
Standing on a rock
Soaked by the spring rain

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Debbie Guzzi July 23, 2009 at 2:37 PM Music lifts the weary soul. Light & Love

Carrie Richards July 23, 2009 at 6:42 AM Can see this ...and almost feel I were there, wet in the rain, yet not minding at all. :)

Ryan Nash July 23, 2009 at 12:34 AM I enjoyed it, and yes, it has a smooth flow as well... awesome :D

Jared Pickett July 23, 2009 at 12:06 AM Thats a nice tale, smooth flow and pretty good....:JP)