The Poetry of Brian Langley
Inspired by seeing a man playing a trombone while standing on the riverbank.
He is standing on the riverbank, his trombone to his mouth
Pointing to the other side, the sound all going south
Across the river, calm and wide,
The people on the other side
That are, from here, just tiny specks,
I doubt that they’d be nervous wrecks;
Like I have been until today,
Since cousin Charlie came to stay.
And bought his trombone in his bag, and practiced day and night
And drove me to distraction. I knew it wasn’t right
To ask him to go way outside
Or pack his bag and take a ride.
He needs to practice, that I know,
So on the day, that he can show
Them all his virtuosity
And what an asset he would be.
But the rain, it has been pouring down, he’s had to stay inside
And practice in his bedroom, there’s nowhere I could hide.
I bit my nails, at times I’d cry
Insane, I knew I would be, by
Audition time, tomorrow night
But now I hope, will all be right,
Sunshine today, I truly thank;
He can practice on the riverbank.
© Brian Langley Aug 31, 2008
