Well I picked it up again,
Had not played it for a while
But blew down it and the sound came,
A clear note was played.
Blew another note
And again, it was clear.
Put some music up
And played the notes,
And I played the tune.
What a surprise,
So out of practice
But the song was played.
Joy was in my heart
As I had started once more,
Started once more to play it,
To play my clarinet.
It will now be played,
Played every day
And Mozart will be happy
When I play his concerto,
Play his concerto once more.
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Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: October 2nd, 2025 01:11
- Comment from author about the poem: I used to play the clarinet in a clarinet choir and in a swing band many years ago, I pick it up occasionally but not very often but I felt I needed to play it again so played it yesterday for the first time for a while and got some decent notes out of it, they will improve as I will play every day from now on.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 1
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