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Concert Night

We were there for th wind ensemble,
There was where I met you,
My senses traversed through
'          ` th geography of your body,

Then, th first song.

In th expanded moment,
Tubas transformed into windmills,
Trumpets moan and yearn,
My senses never left
'          ` your cotton-covered hills.

Golden canaries flew out of clarinets,
As bell flowers bloomed from th horns,
I glanced to you when it was th solo sax,
And imagined children when
'      ` th percussion frolicked and fawned.

Then, the last song wrapped.

Encore! Encore!

Just one more: One more, I begged.

Copyright © Welsonn Goh | Year Posted 2016

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Date: 3/18/2016 2:21:00 PM

Very nice, Welsonn. May I politely ask: Are you aware that the "e" appears to be missing off several of your words? I refer to the word - "The". Nevertheless...A lovely little poem. My best regards! :) john P.s A seven

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