It’s all there before me
Laid out in octave blocks
Several different voices and
A metronome that tocks
A sensory conundrum
Keyed in black and white
As I gaze at spots on lines
And strive to read on sight
While there’s nothing grand about you
Plastic box upon a stand
Your tonal recital of keys I press
Is anything but bland
You’re not the ancient Beringer
That I tinkered with when young
But your keys feel much the same
And I think we’re going to have fun
Martin Addison – 12/08/2015
With Alasdair successfully achieving Grade 4 with Merit on the Clarinet there has been a gnawing feeling that I should also be playing an instrument… The image says it all!


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