Symphony Poem by Souad Zakarani

'I will hear in heaven', Beethoven once said,
And he does, sitting there on a cloud,
With wild hair, wearing wings, writing quartettes for strings,
Still talking exceedingly loud.
'I'm waiting for Brendel', he shouts out to Handel,
As Mozart floats past with a smile,
'The best pianist alive to play Number Five,
But he won't be up here for a while'.
Gershwin comes along, composing a song,
On the piano he's playing forever,
'It's genius, Mr, B, which has brought you and me
And some lesser immortals together'.
Make a note to be good
You might meet Henry Wood,
Promenading about with a baton,
Introducing to you a composer or two,
And the best seats that you've ever sat on.