Three things he loves with no sense of
moderation: his wife, Claire, a woman of charm
and beauty, twelve years his devoted spouse;
his garden, which nurtures forty-seven flower species,
...
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Would it be wrong to call this poem cute? It's the first word that comes to mind. I love how the oboe has a voice and personality of its own. I also love the lightheartedness of the oboe player himself. I can definitely see what drew you to write about him!
Loved the gentle instrumental music lying behind your entire poem, Daniel, it's enticing and captivated my mind thoroughly! ! Thank you for sharing.
I have to read any poem with the word Oboe in it! And of course, an oboe player has 47 species of flowers in his garden...and an equal number of notes, or more, on his oboe...and of course, he must got to NYC to perform the complicated concerto...what oboe concerto is NOT complicated. Thanks for sharing Daniel!