Poem by Pat Olive
The auditorium's lights are dimmed.
The first violinist with tails trimmed,
Takes his place and draws his bow.
With one pulsating breath the audience seems to know.
Another moment and exquisite music shall flow.
The orchestra's musicians tune in one accord,
To the first violinist key with due regard.
A fleeting pause and the Maestro strides,
Through musicians, with head held high.
The audience applauds with pride.
A graceful bow the Maestro takes,
Before ascending to his place.
On the podium the Maestro stands,
The baton poised within his hand.
On the upward sweep flow the first thrilling strains.
Each instrument speaks with the musician's soul.
Its one purpose and goal
To express the emotions of man.
The instrument lives and breathes under the musician's command,
Conscious of his slightest demand.
The Maestro's body vibrates
As each note his mind relates.
The audience receives a gift
As fluid sounds on wings drift.
The full scale of emotions beseeched,
The audience as one is reached.
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