Volunteered to assist the organ tuner at church yesterday,
The idea, of course, is to make the organ even nicer to play. The organist sits on a solid oak bench--has 56 stops that can be pulled, And there are 8 octaves on two keyboards from which sounds are culled. They all can be combined in more ways than Carter has pills, The organist can make sounds that cause you to have chills. The tabs all have odd names--I remember "Trompette" and "Tremulate", Tabs can make more sounds than a French chef can fill your plate. The tuner I never saw--he was behind the wall with the horns, The sounds ranged from the spectacular to the mournful and forlorns. I would hold one note until he said "next", Most seemed ok to me, but some had been flexed. He had been doing this over 30 years--it was my day one, I've been a father over 40 years, but here I was definitely the son. Have you ever been told what to do, and you didn't know why? In cases like this, it's best to not ask questions, but simply comply. I got to thinking, What do I know best to do--when do I say "Next"? How do I lead with confidence, with others' questions and interjects? God is my example, I follow Him--He shows me the right path, He's willing to give us blessings from the storehouse that He hath. So, thanks Mr. Organ Tuner--you behind the wall, Our music now is sweeter, we complied with your call. Dave "Trompette" Hale 11/07/11 (Even the date rhymes!) Ottawa, KS 620/245-5778
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AuthorDave likes to put together words to make poems. Sometimes the rhythms are great and sometimes they are a stretch. Either way they will make you think, make you laugh, make you wonder what's going on with Dave. :) Archives
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