The Synphony Orchestra Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

The oracle of the one who writes,
The muse of the one who reads,
Like a hard toothbrush for the iron-teeth;
The oracle of the one who hears,
The muse of the one whose eyes are blessed;
The talking-teapot is crying for to read on like,
The Synphony Orchestra next to you.
I have the talent and you have the money,
I have the vision and you have the machinery,
Life is like the synphony orchestra.
The talent,
The money,
The vision,
The machinery;
Like a synphony orchestra playing the tune of Mozart.

On the sheep pens,
On the crags of the wild goats,
Like the struggle of oil and wine;
Life is just like that when,
Your body is infused with the synphony orchestra.
A time, times and half;
A word for the pussy-footy mouse where,
The secrects of the soul are tranquiled with these melodies.
A theme,
A rhythm,
The song that infuses;
A word for the horse-walk cat with,
The oracles to teach you.

The synphony,
The orchestra,
The secrects of the soul with melodies;
Loook for the poet you seek like,
The muse that is around you.
To the infinite,
To the unknown,
To the synphony orchestra with the muse;
Like Beetoven, Brahms, Haydn and Bach to a call.
The synphony,
The orchestra,
Like the melody of the muse next door;
With a respect to the human nature.
Schumann, Grieg, Chopim and Vivaldi to a call;
Let the synphony orchestra play on the muse that muses.
Corell, Mendelsohn, Schubert and Mozart;
Let the synphony orchestra to play on our tunes.