Instruments Don’t Make Music; People Make Music.

© 1998 Robert C. Praeger

Think of the trombones,
And of saxophones.
With no players to wake them, there’s no music, not even a sound. 
A drum-set with a snare;
Clarinet if you care.
They stay in their black cases, quiet and still, when no one’s around.
Hear no chords from marimba,
Or low tones from a tuba.
With people there’s some action, someone to wield our maestro’s new stick.
Get all that a truck can carry
Every tom, drumstick and bary
It still takes us all who care, to deliver the joy of music.

Dueling limericks

“A Man From Covina” by Bob Praeger

There once was a man from Covina.
His horn had that age-old patina.
He polished it grand,
Then tried for the band,
And now plays in Covina’s arena.

“A Man In The Sun” by Bill Lang

There once was a gathering in Covina
To find out what the hell’s a patina.
It led to a bum
Who sat in the sun
Selling polish & rags & a cleana