A Mother’s Pride

He played to the world
Not as a mere player on a stage
But as one who could invoke emotion
Inciting the orchestra of the soul
To rise in a crescendo of rupture
Imploring the heart to sing her songs
The anthems of a thousand angels
Voices thronging in the heavens of mind
Where the applause of the timpani
And the sheer beauty of his trombone
Magnified his magnificence
Expounding the splendour; the tone;
The resonance; the sound
That became one between player and her
As she listened to him
Transfixed; adoringly
Full of pride; full of love
For he played to the world
Not as a mere player on a stage
But her son; no longer a boy but a man
The evolving virtuoso
With his gift unwrapped for the world

Dedicated to my son on the occasion of his performance of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Trombone Concerto with Lincolnshire Youth Wind Orchestra, July 2014

Photo credit: BenDJ Photography 2014

 

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Happy Birthday

Today is my son’s 18th Birthday!  He’s a Trombonist to give background to the poem below.  Happy Birthday to him 🙂

Back in the days of ninety six
Some eighteen years ago
A gorgeous boy with deep brown eyes
Arrived post ho-ho-ho
Of Santa’s Christmas drop offs
Yet with as much good cheer
Arriving at the start of yet
Another fun New Year

Without a fuss or much to do
He breathed in frosty air
And in the silence of the night
Declared that he was there
His lungs it seemed were made for brass
So capable and great
But as a baby – oh so sweet
Such things would have to wait

Then five years hence he started out
At school from nursery done
A journey into more besides
To shine just like the sun
At nine he drew a further puff
Of breath that was to be
The dawn of his great love affair
With trombone musically

And since that day he’s not looked back
But progressed as we all know
At home, at school and further out
Just going with the flow
To play on his old sackbut slide
In chorus or alone
So raise your glass to my dear boy
And his tenor trombone

Photograph courtesy of Ed Chappell