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Allison Shackleton Poem
The concert Band
A work of reeds, air, and hands
Reading sheet music isn’t easy
And our uniforms are anti-sleazy
All instruments must be in tune and time
Otherwise we sound like a broken chime
The flutes sound sweet and dainty – like a fairy
A piccolo can go so high it’s scary
Our key of music is set in the key of C
When we are in tune we sound so pretty
Clarinets are reeded
When they squeak, earplugs are needed.
They play way too soft; you must strain to hear
And you have to be quite nearfor that my dear
Saxophones are loud, reeded, and sqeaky
Sometimes they can be quite spit leaky
Those sweaty neckstraps are almost like ties
You could wear it with a suit and look like one of those classy rich guys
Trumpets range in color - silver or gold
Their sound is quite bold
They have valves of three
And all the fingerings are quite easy
French Horns are very hard to play
Tis hard to get the note you want to stay
You have to put your hand in the bell
The smell is totally not swell
Then the oboe and the bassoon.
Oboe sound high and sqeaky, and the bassoon sounds like a loon
Both reeds are double and small
And they arent quiet at all
Percussion is the busiest part to every band
They dont use air or reed; they use thier hands
They keep the tempo for the most part of the time
All of the precussion instruments cost one thousand times a dime
Trombones are made of brass and a slide
If they're loud, your hearing is fried
Stand to close, you'll get hit
Ive heasrd that hurts quite a bit
Without the conductor. we wouldn't be a band
They can change tempo with a flick of a hand
They control everything; we bow to your wow
They tell us where to end and when to play now
Copyright © Allison Shackleton | Year Posted 2007
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Allison Shackleton Poem
If God came down and walked on earth
He would see bombs going off where His son was given birth
He wouldn’t see people treating their body like temples of God
He would also see other making fun of those who are really smart of odd
If God went to high school
He would be hurt, heartbroken, and appalled by those who think they are “cool”
He would have to cover his ears because he hears people using His Holy Name
in vain
He would be so hurt, disappointed, and heartbroken and tears would fall like rain
He would be the one that the jocks and preps called “Jesus Freak”
Just because he is humble, caring and meek
He may not be well liked at all
Some people may laugh at Him in the hall
If God walked around Iraq and Sudan, he would see people living in fear
His heart would ache for them, for He loves his children so dear
He would probably be depressed by the daily news
For it only points out people wrongdo’s
This world has become a very sad place
If someone a person loves is called to heaven, they curse at God’s face
There are so few people who ask for God’s help and care
And those who don’t care more about what they wear
Copyright © Allison Shackleton | Year Posted 2007
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Allison Shackleton Poem
I saw you in the hall today
Just hoping today
You wouldn't walk away.
But you walked by,
Didn't even say "h.i"
I know I broke your heart,
And our friendship fell apart.
We really need a fresh new start.
I really miss you.
Believe me, I do.
Dont pass me by anymore.
We can end this silent war.
Copyright © Allison Shackleton | Year Posted 2008
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Allison Shackleton Poem
The music of my soul
Is very intricate and whole
It’s like Beethoven’s first
And this music is never really rehearsed
New parts are written everyday
It’s in my heart forever and there it will stay
I’m and the conductor and the band
I control it with my emotions, a flick of the hand
There’s no sheet music for my song
And I can never play it wrong
My song isn’t written in a certain key
It ranges from F sharp to the flat key of B
The style changes from 2/4 to 4/4 to 3/4 to 6/8
I never miss a beat or come in too late
It’s written in treble and in bass
And it never changes the tempo’s pace
My heartsong is the music I love
I express it with my God-given talent from above
My music started when I was born
And when I was nine, it expressed it on a horn
My music hit the last chord when I die
Then my soul will dance and fly
To the music made by me
Copyright © Allison Shackleton | Year Posted 2007
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