Instrument Errant

This is a serious/funny comedy of errors.

 

Instrument Errant

 

The violin sang under his bow
as skill and flair and brilliance show
with every thrum of vibrato.
The violin sang under his bow.

 

The music was lofty, yet intimate, slow
it rose and fell with eddying flow
as white as sunlight, black as crow.
The music was lofty, yet intimate, slow.

 

This window into the musician’s soul—
a string broke! O gosh! The theater is full!
so many have seen, and now it is dull—
This window into the musician’s soul!

 

Without a slight hitch, he continues to play
minus one string and yet carries away
the audience awed by his daring display.
Without a slight hitch, he continues to play.

 

The melody flowing, that concert hall fills—
another string’s life dramatically spills!
with only two strings, it’s certain he stills
the melody flowing that concert hall fills.

 

But still, he goes on, with the A string and E
the people now watch his performance with glee
he’s nervous and sweating: from front row I see
But still, he goes on, with the A string and E.

 

The notes are now high, a piercing yet sweet
tune from this bright musician who’ll not take defeat
one wonders who made this violin with deceit.
The notes are now high, a piercing yet sweet—

 

A third? It’s confirmed; the A string heads south
and now there is nothing but one string and mouth
to make any tune at all worth sounding out
A third. It’s confirmed; the A string heads south.

 

With incredible skill, and audacity
the player continues with strings minus three
he’s scraping the notes out on only the E
with incredible skill and audacity!

 

At last, as he goes, the final one dies.
and he is a violinist with tears in his eyes
the notes falter down as the audience sighs
at last, as he goes, the final one dies.

 

Yet beat is still beating in every heart there
and not least in musician who, under the glare
of lights and the eyes of the people who stare
For the beat is still beating in every heart there.

 

This man is not yet defeated by luck
and tossing down bow, a rhythm he struck
on violin body, with no strings to pluck.
this man is not yet defeated by luck.

 

Now finally ends the music at last.
but played it he did, to the final and last
no other, under that trauma, would last
Now finally ends the music at last.