I. <br /> <br />Two, please, <br />In the loge— <br />Partially obstructed <br />if possible. <br /> <br />II. <br /> <br />Playing the voice coach <br />and his favorite soprano. <br />From backstage <br />I urge her on <br />to the E above high C. <br /> <br />III. <br /> <br />Thigh to thigh <br />On the bench <br />With the organist. <br />My feet gently manipulate <br />her pedals, as she <br />pulls out all the stops <br />for a fugue in D minor. <br /> <br />IV. <br /> <br />Ménage á trois with <br />French and English horns. <br /> <br />A peccadillo (or two) <br />with the second piccolo. <br /> <br />Euphoria with <br />the euphonium. <br /> <br />Rumors concerning <br />the oboist and <br />her embouchure are <br />decidedly true. <br /> <br />V. <br /> <br />Oh, how I envy her cello! <br />I long to feel the tension <br />of her bow across my strings <br />during that final movement. <br /> <br />VI. <br /> <br />As she turns her back <br />on the piano, <br />her eyes meet mine; <br />all the notes <br />in an octave and a half <br />play at once. <br />Sustained. <br /> <br />VII. <br /> <br />Lady tubist, wrists tied <br />with red ribbon, <br />blindfolded and <br />tickled from behind <br />to an involuntary glissando. <br /> <br />VIII. <br /> <br />She gasps <br />as I raise the lid <br />on her harpsichord <br />and begin to adjust <br />her plectrum. <br /> <br />IX. <br /> <br />Timpani rolling, <br />Thundering crescendo, <br />Cymbals crash <br />Mallet strikes chimes <br />Percussion and passion <br />Palpating <br />Presto, presto <br />With an innocent final note <br />From the triangle.<br /><br />Gary Witt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/orchestral-fantasies/
