In darkness borne by the glare of a distant drummer

Which shines its light on the garden of a strummer

Of chords and notes which blend in golden harmony

From organs, pianos, harps and other instruments free



To play tunes depicting ballads and rhythm of fine lilt

Which speak to many feelings - some of them from silt

Oozing up between toes of feet which have supported

Burdens of life which so very many have now purported



To be so heavily laden with obstacles which color the tune

So that none will wish to be part of a life seen as over so soon

When the fact is ... the music the drummer hears never stops

For the harmonies continue no matter what sounds do drop



Even the sound of a match striking on the edge of a box

Ignites new purity in a mind which spins and whirs as a top

And new verses run through it depicting a whole new passion

Hourly, it seems ... and so it will never, ever - go out of fashion.



Christopher W. Thomas

12:45pm Tues 12/30/97