Wednesday, 2 March 2011

The Flute Man

[ Image from ]

I once knew a man who could play a flute
As he looked after his goats:
Rugged clothes, torn shoes, dishevelled countenance
But when he played that flute
He could draw air from his lungs
Breathing softly into his magical instrument

Of what a G-Clef was, or woodwind instruments
Or Poco a poco, or Hemi-Demi-Semi Quaver were
Our Flute Man couldn't tell
I can bet my last tooth

Of tubular recorder and globular ocarina
Of the thigh bone as the first flute
Our Flute Man couldn't tell
I myself can't tell yet I am a Music Director

But when the Flute Man tapped his flute gently
Swept his tongue from one coast of his mouth to another
Cleared his throat, adjusted himself on a boulder
Blew his life into that flute
Music was born

He enchanted the flute, seducing it with the breath of his voice
He dexteriously slided his fingers to extract melody
He entranced the god of the flute
Entralled him to awaken music never heard of
Yet, as we surmise, the Flute Man is a Flatfoot in music

We learnt that the Flute Man
Suffered from Asthma;
His health failed him
Undeterred he could exhale music into that flute
Surrounded by his goats;
Whether he needed the Poco a Pocos to hone his art
We can't tell: All we know, he was a talented Flute Man

C) Lorot Salem 2011


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