On Something I Cannot Name Poem by Roy Ballard

There is a big orchestra and a chorus.

We hear a gentle tap on the side drum

then castanets and the sound of a fife.

Ensuite the piccolo comes in.

The strings sweep on to make a swelling tide,

blazed with a splendid trumpet.

Voila! The organ bellows out and drowns it all.

Boom! The cannon is fired.

Dust falls from the ceiling

and the chorus begin a paean of praise to Aphrodite.

The side drum and castanets are heard again,

fading gradually into silence

broken by a slight snore and

the sound of skylarks singing.