• World Selection 19.07.2007

    A talent master, who hails from Australia,
    Resides on a playground of fifty loose ends.
    He designed a studio…on a field of dreams,
    Where he balances old music with a blend.

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    A talent master, who hails from Australia,
    Resides on a playground of fifty loose ends.
    He designed a studio…on a field of dreams,
    Where he balances old music with a blend.

    The future is pregnant with the lyrical art;
    While music harmonics electrify the world.
    Australia ties the end…with a Texas friend;
    To create music more beautiful than pearls.

    Technically assisted, found talent in Texas,
    Artists readily afloat…with a merit of notes.
    Entertain no confusion on this playground;
    Fifty years will bouy a harbor lot of boats.

    How many clever tones will a talent take,
    For friends to match art–perfect blend?
    A playground change is for history’s sake,
    Talent enhances wit–to the perpetual end.

    Notice an obvious taste, as a talent picks;
    Notation intervals arrange…like a genius.
    Music–hand picked, is a marvelous niche,
    Harmony clings…for players to attend us.

    An aesthete specialist rises to the occasion,
    To rescue the value of an art contribution.
    Though past and present, a player lives on,
    As public sensitometers await distribution.

    It will never be late for a calm sensible rest,
    ‘Cause time refuses art to release any faster.
    Boldly, dreams establish an effortless quest,
    For Texas playgrounds…receive the master.
    [/pay]

    Posted by Lee Mahana @ 3:22 PM

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