The mystical melody that sings from your soul

Reminds me of minstrels songs of old

Rising and ebbing the crescendo we await

The haunting melody never to abate

Gently the player approaches his flute

It beckons it calls let me not stay mute

A gentle kiss is placed on the mouth piece and then

The melody rises and swirls and dances again

How gifted is he who can create such song

It leads us and moves us and sweeps us along

I met you one night and your music I heard

You listened and talked yet spoke not a word

Such a gift is this talent sent from above

You share it with others filled with love

By: Betty Van Slyke, April 9, 2000