Music of Hollidays

A stick of hollow wood
Ten strings and a hoot of guiness downed
Make a belting night
In roaring Dublin town
Whilst in Milan
The divine diva didn't linger
On the long divan
The violinists went on strike and wouldn't lift a finger

A heart, a loop, and a harsichord
Sufficient in their way
To make one dance upon the coutly boards
Such lovely notions lost upon today
A score of crested swallows
Zipping, some strung over five
Near a cafe, whistling measures
A tune we uniquely treasured live

I leave a message for my son
I love the calm music of his soul
I treasure memoirs of those holidays in the sun
Get the car and go south once more
In memory of me