BEASTLY TALES - THE MAESTRO
Welcome to Beastly Tales. Each has a message, a moral. All are meant to have an element of humour. Naturally, any names included do not depict real folk but are included as part of the joke.
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(As with Beastly Banter Beastly Tales is written and illustrated by Richard Hersel.)
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Richard Hersel
BEASTLY TALES
THE MAESTRO
The Maestro conducted the Campdown Philharmonic,
This orchestra had been around since the plague bubonic,
Since Elizabethan times they had grandly played.
Generations of them, in the church yard were laid,
The instruments had undergone some metamorphosis,
Some of the most talented players had suffered psychosis.
But still the orchestra played superbly on,
Talent overall had undoubtedly not gone.
The Maestro revelled in overseas tours,
Foreign shores glimmered as tantelizing lures.
The orchestra had played in the Sydney Opera House,
Had been accoladed when they rendered Strauss.
In Berlin, Paris, Rome and Vienna they had played.
Adding to the magnificent reputation they’d made.
Marcel Minchinberry was the Maestro’s name.
He was rightly listed in the Maestro’s hall of fame.
He always looked so smart in his bow tie and tails,
His frizzy grey hair over his forehead sails,
As he furiously gesticulated with his baton,
“Encore” the crowd screamed, he’d never been spat on.
As he heard “Encore”, he did readily engage,
By repeatedly walking off the stage.
He’d do this once, twice or even thrice,
The audience loudly applauded, yes, very nice.
As he “Encored”, walking off the stage, hot it was getting,
Which meant that very shortly he was freely sweating.
When intermission came he went to his dressing room,
With thunderous applause reverberating in a sonic boom.
There he removed his tail coat and pants,
To maintain their creases, no crinkly slants.
His stage manager, lateness did abhor,
So he stuck his ugly head in the door,
“Five minutes until the first rhapsody,”
“Better shake a leg, and earn your fee.”
So the Maestro quickly ran right out,
You should have heard the audience shout.
Maestro took his place behind the podium,
Lifted up his baton, curious as to the odium,
Of the orchestral players as they regarded him,
Staring at him, mouths agape, as though he was dim.
Maestro, loath to be at all criticized,
Looked down and suddenly realized,
That the reason that people did laugh and stare,
Was that he was on the stage in his shirt and underwear!
haha oops maestro ;)
Lovey piece as always @beastlybanter!
Thank you for your obliging comment.
Hahaha so funny, very clever!
Kind words indeed. Thank you.
Nice one shering the post.