Musical Interlude Poem by Harry St Vincent Beechey

How to begin

Ah yes — a violin

And its fellow the cello

Playing a simple air

Two octaves apart

And as a base, the double bass

Supporting a pyramid of sound.

And Oh, an oboe

Big brother bassoon

The cor anglais

(The English homing in again)

The wood-winds blowing

Heralding an autumn.

Bold as brass

The trumpets and trombones

And (encore les Francais)

The sweet French hom

A hand up her skirt!

Rumbling tympani

Grumble softly of storms

And icy celestes

Glitter like tinsel.

Flights of flutes

From large to piccolo

Ripple the waters of my mind

And emotions emerge

From the depths of the dark lake.

© copyright 1989 H.St.V.Beechey