The Music Sings

The music sings, and our souls learn to pray,
From darkest gloom we’re lifted to the light;
Our hearts are filled with glorious sounds this day,
The notes take wing and soar into the height.

These men and women dressed in black and white,
Have laboured through a hot and noisome day;
But now from all their instruments so bright
The music sings, and our souls learn to pray.

All humankind is made of earthly clay
And often clings to darkness and the night;
But music carries rage and fear away,
From darkest gloom we’re lifted to the light.

Some had believed they were in such a plight
That none could reach them in their dark dismay;
But one inspired these wondrous notes did write –
To fill our hearts with glorious sounds this day.

The sky was full of storm clouds darkly grey,
And fear that joy could nevermore take flight;
But as a beam of sunlight shows the way
The notes took wing and soared into the height;
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .The music sang.

Another Rondeau Rédoublé, written for the Whitehaven Writers, the original title – The Classical Concert.


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