The Maidens Story

Bang of the drum, clash of the chords. Melodic flutes and soft piccolos. Trumpet fanfare signals a battle, a sudden accelerando starts off the sprint. The crash of the symbols tells of a blow, and the trill of the clarinets makes the heart race. Staccato gunshots and sharp jabs, the hero has fought but not yet won. But suddenly its changed. Staccato guns become legato rhythms. Saxophone, french horn duet tell the love of the hero. The sweet tune, the lovely story. Heartbeat slows as tubas decrescendo and while the conductor signals a ritard All plays beautifully in perfect harmony. Until the baritones change. The chord once major, becomes sickly minor. The maiden longs for her hero with a vivice sprint to the beat of the bass drum. But the breath taking sausora stops our hearts, pulls at our emotions, and signals to the worst. The maidens once vivice sprint, becomes a grave* crawl. Sweet tears fall as the oboes diminish. Hold your breath as the fermata steals away any words or thoughts. But remember the maiden after the director cuts off. *Not grave like for the dead, but pronounced graa-vee (a like in awesome, and e like the Canadian eh).