How still the sticks on drum kit lie,
Like spoons in a frozen cup,
Until the drum beat needs be played,
Then a flash as drums erupt.
Booms shoot out to the sky,
As from a lightning flame,
They scatter the stars asunder,
Compendium of music proclaim.
Ronald Whetsell's Creative Writing and Poetry Blog
My Prayers, Thoughts, and Reflections
How still the sticks on drum kit lie,
Like spoons in a frozen cup,
Until the drum beat needs be played,
Then a flash as drums erupt.
Booms shoot out to the sky,
As from a lightning flame,
They scatter the stars asunder,
Compendium of music proclaim.