We Live and Breathe

Some don't notice,

And sometimes,

That's okay.

But we all like to be heard,

In our own special way.

Our flute likes

Her notes to rise.

Like a kite,

In the wind.

Our horn,

So very sweet,

Adds a French twist,

To even the most Irish tune.

Our trumpets and symbals,

Love the attention.

Loud and short,

Quiet and long.

The clarinet has a place too!

Though we may sometimes squeak,

We make it through.

And sometimes with not so much as a peep.

The percussion love their melodies.

They ring out from their innermost bellies.

Trombone is much the same.

And her sound is hard to tame.