The Inkwell

Crescendo

The noise began softly enough

as the orchestra’s strings began to play

the flutes and the piccalos joined in with the tune

led by an oboe and a bassoon

to the listenener the music was perfectly poised

as those there playing were joined by a bang

and held in the air – silence it hang

it sounded like thunder – there was an almighty crash

as percussion joined in and kettledrums were bashed

and cymbals and gongs were clattered and crashed

the rest played along to the percussionists peak

till the noise of their thunder died down and became meek

whilst the only noise in the room that was sharp

was the solo effort of a lass on the harp.