Baritone Beauty

A cheesy poem that describes my affinity for the Baritone Saxophone.

It saddens my heart that some have not yet

Experienced a joy that will never be met.

With a low Concert ‘C’ and a high bluesy ‘F’,

No other hobby will e’er be enough

To fill the abyss that resides in my heart:

A longing to play that sweet baritone part.

 

The trombones are dandy, the trumpets are great,

The clarinets and flutes I sure do not hate.

The brethren with tubas that play with us oft,

They cannot match us, their notes are too soft.

The altos and tenors, I love them all much,

But matched with our power, they never will touch.

 

It radiates gold and inspires a smile,

It gives you a pleasure that lasts for awhile.

The stresses and sadness of every day,

It takes them with love and throws them away.

Feeling the music you play in your hands,

Whatever the song, it understands.

 

Vibrations of low notes shaking my soul,

Melodious high notes making me whole,

Emitting a sound of the Heavenly Chorus,

Improvisation of Jazz:  Fabulous,

The Entirety of goodness hangs on my neck,

The Baritone Beauty: it sounds good as heck.

Author's Note

Any musicians out there?