The lights were turned down low.
The audience sat aglow,
Anticipating the show.
With barely a whisper in the air,
Everyone would sit and stare
For the orchestra to appear.
As the curtains did open,
There sat the featured token—
All quiet and unspoken.
Perfect harmony did abound;
Heaven moved with every sound.
‘Twas a performance to astound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem