The Man Who Threw Away His Flute

A glistening golden flute
Adrift on the damp coarse sands
Threw away by a perfectionisty player
He who was never good enough
Never nurtured enough
To muster a seasoned sound
A sound scented with melancholy
A sound reeking of beauty

The lowly one noted recorder
Is content just to be
Happy as Larry
With a note ringing of simplicity
A note of remote

Just like the man who threw away his flute
Emerging from his disillusioned frown
He now recalls the seasoned sound

A sound scented with melancholy
A sound reeking of beauty