Poetry: Music of The Spheres

Music of The Spheres



by The Eaghams

The musician wrote of the seasons he had seen generations come and go in the family chronicles dating as far back to the 1500s. He had seen all

kinds of people on his journeys. Sunny people of an optimistic disposition, kind and warm, people who were gloomy, in the mist, people who were

planning ventures for the new year's cream of the crop for the city, people of different age groups, colder countries weather but good hearts

underneath their coats. He played on stage telling the audience that it was a beautiful day and he was enjoying the sun.

He went on to elaborate through song which was a language he had sorted out for himself and his mates - the band, the songs come together to
chorus on their ideas, nodding at each and smiling. The audience were enjoying the summer festival, a rite of passage, at Glastonbury.

They would have spirited discussions in the bars, over the noisy clamour, and their songs just as earnest and spirits. They banged tables and drums,

created an air everywhere they went, in Los Angeles or London. They had a title for each string a song begun in A or B or C or D or E or F or G.

Early in the morning, the musician went to the British Library, seeing Beethoven's songbook, it was huge. Through time, was it just that he was

looking for some kind of pattern, to the scale of his experiences personal, however quirky, however he keyed into it, it was all just a description.

A collection of sounds from the cacophony, tidying up the stage after the jazz band, they were dressed in half buttoned shirts, and stood slanting

slightly. The orchestration of the band was in concord and harmony, in it's own way, it took off. The distances achieved, going beyond the beyond.
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