The Big LicoriceA Poem by David P. EckertI think this was a contest or challenge regarding a musical instrument.
The Big Licorice I am my own voice, my own tune, fighting for my few minutes of fame, not the licorice stick laughing gull of a b-flat clarinet, nor the jazzy brass of some sultry tenor sax, but a deeper vibration drawn from thick dark wood and my nickel-plated bell and neck. I am smooth as a cool salty breeze on a warm, starlit August night. And my mouthpiece and those reeds, the fattest of any woodwind, are just asking for a strong mouth and firm full lips to send steady waves of sound down my smooth gullet, to shimmer in expectant air, skim acoustic tiles and float suspended above rich maroon velvet seats, occupants barely hearing the deep tones of my contribution. But it’s there, in the warm undertones of a full size band, as I march in formation at this year’s homecoming game, in the melody of a sweet woodwind quintet. My bass sounds take flight nimble as a bumble bee, but ready to sing the deepest songs of your soul. © 2008 David P. EckertFeatured Review
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19 Reviews Added on February 21, 2008 AuthorDavid P. EckertRoslyn Heights, NYAboutPsychologist, Writer, Painter, Father of 2, Grandpa of 2 cute, smart and beautiful little girls, Husband, Keeper of Dogs, Fish and Fruit Trees and generally Busy Guy. more..Writing
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