It had been the best birthday that I ever had
I got a flashlight from my Mom and a toy car from my Dad
The remote control kind without any wires
It could go anywhere with its oversized tires
It came with a battery in the hand held control
And another in the car to make the wheels roll
The flashlight had two more of the same size inside
But I wanted to play so I set that aside
Mom said, “Go have fun and try to play nice,
But before you run I’ve got some advice,
It’s your property do what you please,
But if it were me I’d save the batteries
But if it were me I’d save the batteries!”
I made it do circles and great figure eights
In order to keep up with it I had to wear skates
But before very long after maybe an hour
It started slowing down It was loosing its power
So I went back inside to get my flashlight
Took the batteries from it to keep my car running right
It seemed to run better than ever before
So I turned it around and chased it out the door
I steered it down the sidewalk and into the park
I could barely keep up it was just about dark
It went over a hill but when I got there
I could hear it in the distance but could see it nowhere
I looked in the bushes and behind every tree
And under the benches until too dark to see
Then I ran back to the house to get my flashlight
That’s when I realized that Mom was right
Now I lie here alone in my room in my bed
Remembering everything that my Mom had said
If I had just listened maybe I could have found
My car that’s now lying somewhere on the ground
First thing tin the morning I’ll find it, I must
Probably covered with dew I just hope it won’t rust
If I saved the batteries that were in my flashlight
My mother’s advice wouldn’t haunt me all night.
“On My Roof”
composed and performed by Debby Greenblatt
Once upon a time, I was playing for some dancers, and one of them asked an intriguing question.
“Have you ever considered creating music based on the rhythms of ancient Greek poetry?”
She lured me to her apartment, and served tea and scones. She showed me a collection of ancient Greek poems that she just happened to have handy.
It was all in Greek, which she was able to translate.
The rhythms were all diagrammed, long notes, short notes, a sort of ancient Morse code.
It was an interesting challenge, but being somewhat intimidated, I chose the shortest poem that I could find.
“On my roof in wet April a mockingbird sings.”...by Stesichorus