Poetry by Jeff Green



by cricketjeff on June 25, 2011.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

Do your feet start to tap when the flugles sound
Do you grin when there’s tubas all around
Do you know that there’s no music more profound
Than the call of the big brass band

They will rip through a march or through William Tell
And they’ll play to send all of your blues to hell
With a ring of a note like a damned great bell
That’s the call of the big brass band

I’ve a trombone I play when I’m on my own
That’s as loud as a child with a megaphone
But here in my head I believe I’ve flown
To the call of the big brass band

So if you see me sit with a grin on a train
Or I’m mouthing the words while I’m sat on a plane
I’m not there I am back in my school days again
With the call of the big brass band

There’s no sound I will hear that could mean as much
As the bray of the cornet and horns and such
But don’t say “Please Play” cause I’m out of touch
Go along to a big brass band
I am sure there’s a concert planned
By a band that’s still fully manned
Join with me in the praise of the big brass band!

Author notes

If you fix the “William Tell” theme in your head you’ll hear this like I do