Classic Poem

Softly, slyly, flute and drum begin to weave their net
Of notes; the slow seductive beat evokes the stomp of gypsy feet
Inside some smoky dim cantina, where a woman's silhouette
Is dancing with abandon to the pulsing, pounding theme
Of the flamenco or fandango...the bolero or beguine.
It's unremitting rhythm, darkly sensual in tone,
Restrains a fierce and frenzied spirit in it's own
Measured meter...persistent and alone
Beneath the sultry overtones
Of the trumpets and trombones,
Echoed closely by the throbbing of the strings
In which the melody continuously, sinuously sings
A refrain that is almost overcome
By the passion and the power of the drum,
Of the drum.
Now, in the same obsessive cadence, and without accelerando,
It mounts to it's finale in a thunderous crescendo
With the crashing of the cymbals and the gong!
And the hot, erotic beat of the drum,
Of the drum, of the drum.